Wednesday, July 31

there really is no choice.

if you love what you do,
you're very lucky.
i just do what i do.
it's not because of the joy it brings me,
or that it brings to others.
it's not for the respect or admiration or appreciation it inspires
on those occasions i'm not completely by myself.
it's not for the evolution of ideas,
or the satisfaction of seeing things to fruition.
i don't get a thrill from proving the hypothesis.
i'm rarely surprised, and i'm even more rarely impressed.
no, duders,
it's not any of that.
i just do what i do.
even when i'd really rather not.
even when it's the last thing i'd like to get involved with.
i still just doo-doo that freaky sh!t.
it's never because i'd love to.....'s because i have to.
that's a thing.
listen, y'all-
it's the last day of july,
and i've sneaked in one last batch of expert treats.
it's NOT a labor of love, either.
it's a burdensome obligation.
battle-beast-mode in my brain means perseverating and persevering
through the impulse to get extra-makey,
long after the point has been made.
check the teleport:
one last double-dose of dozens of itty bitty baby bite tarts,
to send this month into history forever and ever.
cream-chee' pastry pockets,
with choco-coconut-cocoa creme,
and super smooth blops of brown and sugary chocolate frosting on top.
you guys think i'm psyched?
it's probably better to believe that's possible.
however, my really-realest peoples all know better.
in fact,
shawn and i commiserated on a synergistic summation
of my psyche's severe and savage situation.
he assessed it,
i put the shine to it-
it amounts to this:
when it comes to warrior poetry,
there is no passion, only compulsion.
we just be like we are,
and let the secret plans guide us to where we need to be.
as long as it's all always really happening,
then there is always a point.
this is what is;
never quiet, never soft.....

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