Minion

Autumn has always been my most creative month.

My emotions seem to be more receptive to a harvest dance

For whatever the reason, creativity calls emotions to be raw, and those include

tears.

I wonder why our society is so adverse to tears; or conditional at best.

As for grief, you get a week for intimates and a day, two tops, for ex's. (you know ex significant other who moved on; now a winking acquaintance)

I scared most of my passing companions, they didn't drink artist,  or just maybe I allowed myself the luxury of applying that salve to the blinding flash of the obvious in we no longer got along.

A few I’ve cultivated

So I can feel at ease in speaking my random, dark thoughts.  You know, and trust that in sharing such thinking I don't notice a nervous inching towards a phone to call for professional help.

We watched The Time Traveler's wife the other night. He couldn't control when he'd disappear to another time. It was a sweet love story but I felt it deeply.  Here was a poor soul who would be whisked away from his familiar surroundings and comforts only to be thrust into a foreign place naked and friendless.

kind of like

College.

I looked at over 900 professional job announcements the other night. I considered the bulk of them equivalent to punishment for violating social laws or crimes against nature.

To think that so many put work saddle's on for their entire life and consider it a good fit.

Counting sales, or tricking others into buying...is that the height of aspiration? Scotty, beam me up.

Or could it be.....a lingering thirst to have power over a vast minion? To strive to be in control of something we can't get our hands on?

At the dog park, minion was a miniature pincher. I took great care to not step on its tiny feet as he scampered about; sniffing the ground for scents I had no idea their meaning. 

I didn't want to break anything delicate on such a lovely fall day.