Thursday, July 18, 2013

Quiet morning and I can't wake up. Coffee, coffee, not enough, too much, doesn't matter, isn't helping. Believe it or not, I had a hard time getting to sleep last night. Maybe a tiny bit of PTSD? Like, one grain of sand on a beach of the real thing. Still, enough to make my body hum at a level not conducive to sleep for quite awhile. Once I fell, though, I fell to the very bottom of that dark well.
And now I can't seem to climb myself back out.

Mr. Moon and I may run away this weekend to Apalachicola. I am happy about that. Maybe this time we'll stay on the river and that would be nice.

That's what you see when you drive over the bridge into Apalachicola. 
A weekend away would be nice.

And next weekend, on Sunday, my birthday, I'll be getting in a car with my Lis and my May and we'll be making the long drive up to Asheville to visit Jessie and Vergil. Can you believe that? 

Today, though, I am at home. I think I will mop my kitchen simply because my feet want to feel a clean floor. And do laundry. Of course. Are we breathing? Laundry must be done.

I need to take a walk. I am not awake. I've been up a very long time and I am still not awake. I am between places and states of consciousness. I am in Apalachicola, I am in Asheville, I am in a car on a bridge over a river of dreams. I let polished rubies pass through my fingers like rosary beads, I float down a silver stream of forgetfulness. I sit on a beach and watch the eternal movement and breath of the planet. I watch silver fishes flash, boats with hand-painted names drift at dock, pterodactyl pelicans bump the water, open mouthed and rise with fishes captured in improbable beaks. I wake, I sleep, I rise slowly through mist and green water towards light. 

Somedays it is easy to believe it is all a dream. 


  1. I know what you mean. Sometimes that happens to me. Just never really wake up.

  2. Where you live, and go, are so very different from where I am, and go. Love the pics. Keep on sharing your life, please. I like the realness of it, the honesty, the flow.

  3. That last paragraph is as fine as any I've ever read. Your poetic voice really shining.

  4. That last paragraph was a prose poem you wrote in your dream state. Have a great weekend away with that Moon Man! x0 N2

  5. I love the Southern Comfort ad. That ad agency earned their money on that, unfortunately it tastes like cough syrup to me. Frequently I remark to my beloved that I do not understand how two people wear so much clothing.

  6. Glad that you may be getting away for the weekend. A little geographic cure is needed and certainly did help me.

  7. Mmmmmmm...right there with that poetry, that dream state. Loveliness. Thank you.

  8. A getaway to Apalachicola sounds like a fine idea. And Asheville is ALWAYS a good idea. Can't wait to hear about both trips. :)

    Fine writing about your dream state. You definitely bring us along on a trip into the unreal.


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