Yep.

The turn of the clock is happening in a bit. I was born at 2:10 am, but I celebrate at midnight on the 13th of November like everybody else would because I'm civilized.

And I'm brooding and deep and reflective and depressed like I am every year when this happens, me having to remember that I was born. It's a thing that happened. And I'm still here.

I'm existential but grateful. Again, I'm civilized, y'all. I know what not to be or say.

A lot has tried to happen this past year.

A lot has been lost.

So much loss.

(sigh)

So, here is my boring ass, COVID-affected offering - still with the rose-colored glasses on, still believing in the bullshit ideals, still reaching:

44 in 2020

SAGED PAGES

I had to.

New Moon. New Plan. New Life, hopefully.

Renewal. Rewind.

I've done this so many times.

Friends still around make fun of me being on a loop.

The family's got my dreams on mute. Parenting makes em moot.

That's it's own pain, the particular kind.

Makes sense…

Scorpio Sun - my death-starts always sting.

Virgo Rising - damn, how long does it TAKE earth to grow?

Leo Moon - hiding my glow, don't notice me. SEE!

Myself.

Indulgent crap. Socially slow, still.

Aren't we all?

No?

Oh.

(sigh)

Doing it wrong on purpose takes skill.

Life in the fringes and never getting it right,

"She doesn't get it."

No.

I don't think on my feet.

No.

I think while you sleep.

So...see, I know I'm sober.

Here's the door in, though!

No?

Oh.

(sigh)

I am saging these pages versus 'same ole' again.

Y'all too light for life.

I'll forget you tomorrow

or tonight.

What did you just say?

Complaint forensics is how you play?

Fighting for fun, you want your mind read, and if not, you judge!

And you need someone?

We always need someone.

Getting better's scary alone.

"Let's run away with what's wrong!"

Happiness is a new adventure, and you know nothing ever lines up right.

So then what?

Try to say you tried?

No peace. Ever.

Never even inside, and how can you survive that without inner lies?

My evil-life-lust is joy.

So much, it looks fake - so nonbelievers stay away.

Fuck you. Let me eat cake - critic-free.

Wide is the life road, and my thighs are as wide as my eyes - I didn't come to judge you!

I like that music too!

I want to save Gaia, just like you.

Spiraling in losses is my truth.

Money and love, I'm stretched. And for more, I’m sitting here, thinking of death.

Because nothing hits different enough, and it's making me ache, making bets for that moment right before,

For what it must feel like…

Man.

(sigh)

Suicide lied. I heard it's a player and it'll Superman you!

Let me feel that lust every sunny day, in the morning.

I don't remember asking for these chances.

We just stay at-the-ready, then everything changes.

You write new rules. Wisdom ages you, so you'll sage those pages...

Claim it.

I make things the world'll like.

I'll be somebody's somebody.

I'll raise a kind leader.

I'll live well, swinging the pendulum of

decadence and generosity

luxury and humility

light and shadow, closeted and switch-hittin

love and hurt

peace and guilt and peace and

joy and pain and

pleasure and complaint

politics and nihilistic

routine and risk

so I never forget again

to savor it and sage those pages.