i often forget
that the sounds of the birds
can be my morning page music
and the crickets and wind and rain
can replace my podcasts
i no longer use perpetual sound
to block out my own inner voice
[that sounds like some kind of growth]
but i think i have now found myself using any auditory distractions
as literal distractions
from boredom
and i do wish i was more on board
being bored
for creativity’s sake
wasn’t i complaining
yesterday
or the day before
(or the day before that)
that i wanted to get back to my
regularly scheduled schedule
and continue on in my routine of routines?
so why, now, comfortably sitting in
‘we’ve taken the dog out,
we’ve started the lofi beats spotify station,
we’re both at the table, doing our morning writings’
do i miss
so terribly
the hustle
the bustle
the never knowing what’s going to happen
from one moment to the next?
oh!
did i just need a cat in my lap?
this portion of my routine,
my every day,
my comfort and creativity,
that had been missing
pretty much
since we moved?
(even tho i do stop every few lines
to pet and love her
so she stays,
she still really does
help me
feel
the morning page
poetry
routine
i’d been missing
[and then immediately
got bored of].)
(she is the chaos
that i need
to appreciate
routine)
if i’m
contemplative
too much
i get
existential
and that often leads to
a
crisis
but without
contemplation
i’m left with
mundanity
which therein leads to
boredom
which in turn becomes
agitation
which stems from
anxiety
and
depression
which, while indulging in those
can become
too much
contemplation
[or at least i think those are the appropriate words for all that emotional muck i feel]
kipventures 