TICK

Days ticking by again…
It means a lot
And means nothing
Just a number on a life
Some way to catalogue the past
The present is this moment writing
The future, a pathless open void.

A landscape un-conquered
And unburdened
A vision of idealities and fear
And trust for some of us

Dates and dates,
Innumerable yet numbered.
Hours, minutes, seconds

We can look back in our journals,
Through heads
Dream up what the dead
Left on pages of their own
And also in the ground
And in the air
And in their bodies
Through their loins
And here we are
Ticking days and counting moments
The same same same same same same same

Why do we measure
Something that will not end?
For patience?
For remembrance?
For Self-Validation?
For our children? Yes perhaps.
To be remembered?
To be helpful? So the next can do it better?....better?
Then it’s progress? Yes perhaps.
Is there an answer? Yes. I’m sure.

We just don’t know it.
We are waiting.
We need patience for waiting.
We are learning to wait,

Happily.
Our souls are validated by the
TICK
The rhythm
TICK
Is destracting from our fear.
TICK
Is an anxious heart
That teeters
Right, Left,
Right, Left
Faith, Fear
Faith, Fear
Fear,
Faith……………………..That He will come

Valerie Larsen

I'm writing a lot

I don't like school but I'm working on it

I want to be a better actress

I want to know that I'm good at things

I want to know that I'm doing the right thing

I want to share things, and be loved, and love.

I want to kiss someone...someone specific...and no I won't tell you who it is.

The point is...drive...desire to exist and create and inspire and exhale and ignite from the inside. To be.

I have things to do...so many. Gotta go