where to begin? getting out of bed at 5:30 am, after falling asleep at 1:00, filled with illogical impetus. did laundry, washed my sheets, cleaned more muck from the crevices, did my taxes, called my student loan place, applied for a new payment plan, ordered school books, replied to emails, called family, went grocery shopping, envisioned the next year on a long walk, took instagram pictures…and the whole time i am moving like my body is made of lead. tired beyond comprehension, and yet i cannot stop. oh and the mind. it focuses like a shark and then disperses like entropy, back and forth. one minute i am editing an email for over an hour, and the next minute i’m like, “who am i, where am i?” i think about the seed inside the cold dark earth. that today she suddenly felt the need to burst forth, after months of being still and waiting. of course her tiny little seedling mind would switch quickly between being oriented and disoriented. she’d have intense little seed focus, in order to morph into a stalk that can push through the solid earth. maybe that inner fire to become the stalk, would also make her extremely tired. i am attuned to the seed is all. i have no idea what the blossom will look like. don’t even know what a blossom is, really. but i know that what i am gonna spring into, wont feel like being a seed at all. i will remember this time with nostalgia. the time when i looked out at the city, facing west toward downtown, the sound, the mountains in the far distance. the time i only had two plates, two bowls, one pot, one pan, no can opener, no strainer, no toaster. i will remember needing to burn incense to send the bad spirits away, and how the building thanked me…how the earth needed some tender loving care beneath my feet. how gun shot wounds were not far away from me, and yet i am nowhere near them energetically. i will remember a bitter taste for the strewn syringes, lost shoes, wet plastic baggies, purses empty, laying defeated on the street in early morning. i might romanticize this time too….as being more free, once responsibilities increase with the increased opening of this heart. but in reality, right now, there’s a lot of sadness and longing, dry hair days, bleach in the windowsills, and melrose place. not for long though. soon i’ll be turning to dr suess for a laugh and inspiration. oh and i will always remember this place for the time krishna das took home in my soul, along with maharaji, hanuman, and all the others. i lived in ancient india on capitol hill…while the goddess lit her matches within, until i figured out how to give her a candle. the glittering eyes of the building windows lit up at night, taunt me. like an infant staring into the nebula before her vision is fully formed, losing herself in mobiles and smiles. what am i even saying anymore?