Wednesday, September 4

baked greats in the early a.m.

eating a homemade custom bakery-type jauns is good.
i had an assistant, too.
a little red hen getting a little help actually happened,
even if it WAS more spectatorship than active participation.
sort of a 'who will watch me bake this bread?' scene.
any semblance support is nice to have
when you're behind the mixing bowl, beating batter into bread an' that.
watching and focusing those good intentions towards making sure
that it all turns into something totally expert.
i can't do that if i'm busy being the maestro of mixing and adjusting.
i'm sayin'.
calculations need making, and cheers need leading,
and we all have a job to do.
...and this is it.
and once the measuring and mashing and stirring and baking is done?
F*ing right.
we jammed a few triangles of four-hundred degree hottness
directly down the hatch.
like, immediately.
fresh off the racks, before cooling was even considered.
eating what you create is more delicious than reppin' store-bought.
word, neighbors-
that's no jokes.
and when you've got good company, and a plan,
it can't be bad, even if it could be better.
what were we making?
we were making dreams come true.
oh, yeah,
and scones.
we GOT they,
and what do they got?
how about cinnamon-toasted almonds and diced-up dried cranberries?
they are so mutha-licking good, y'all.
better than your british mum makes, b!tch.
real talk.
did i work sort of hard-ish on my whole entire day off?
i did.
did i make new friends with my charm, poise, and wit?
no i did not.
did i break hearts and burn bridges?
disintegrating connections with people is what i do,
and when it comes to breaking hearts apart,
does letting mine crack into pieces at varying pressures
during alternating episodes of interaction count?
it does?
then, yes.
yes i did.
today is the day, kids.
it always is.
explaining the interconnectedness of overlaps,
the cultivation of coincidences,
and the widening gyre of spirit and memory sounds
completely super-F*ing crazy out loud.
like crazy crazy.
like kuh-ray-zee.
logic as metaphysics?
with diagrams?
pretty sure that's the sort of maniacal monologue that means
i'll end up talking to strangers on the sidewalk,
while pushing a shopping cart along a street corner before too long.
it's all really happening,
and being the one who thinks they see the patterns
is a sure shot at spiraling along a fibonacci numberwang.
and that's the good news;
never quiet, never soft.....

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