i've got ivy going OFF in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
constantly reaching, stretching, creeping, crawling, inching
every day, incrementally, inexorably, undeterrably towards something.
and i sure do like that.
check the one-windowsill-of-many-type teleport:
because nature doesn't compromise,
that's probably why i like my house full of plants.
they need what they need,
and they'll let you know what that is.
plants don't pretend everything is fine-
if it's too dark, they die.
if it's too wet, they die.
if it's too dry, they die.
if it's too bright, they die.
if it's too hot, too cold, too whatever,
they F*ing DIE.
talk about certainty, huh?
that means they like what they like,
and that's all that they like.
i can relate.
we have an understanding, and we stick to it.
i keep them alive and well,
they keep my air all kinds of cleansed up.
rules are rules, after all,
and we, my plants and i,
are the children of infinite nature and mother nature,
and we know about rules.
long nights, and cold ones.
sixteen degrees is just not enough degrees.
that's not cool. or, anyway, it's TOO damned cool)
in a drafty old manor like mine,
it takes a lot of fire to warn off the chill and warm up the bones.
which means i'm shivering,
and i'm shaking,
and i'm wearing outside clothes inside,
over robes and fleecy frocks an' that.
it always gets harsher out in the woodsly world around me
in sympathetic symphonic sync with my moods.
that's really weird,
but cultivated coincidences are my specialty, i s'pose.
i hate november, guys.
it makes for a meandering mess-up of moulting, melting, and musing.
it gets kinda stale,
every november being such a bummer,
and it gets sorta suffocating,
even with all that ivy pumping out the freshness for my lungs.
it's that there's nowhere to go, only things to endure.
november is a whole month of grey sameness.
sometimes, it seems everything is working out.
...and then, just like *that*, ,
all of a sudden,
it's just too much, all at once.
i like that.
a threshold is crossed,
supersaturation is achieved,
and thought becomes action.
too much is the right amount, neighbors,
and when there isn't any more room for adding on,
i think most folks start replacing old things with new things,
replacing old people with younger ones for old times' sake.
that's an unfolding sequence of cause and effect,
it makes a whole new What Is, in the here and now,
while affecting the way things progress,
and distorting the memory of how things were,
when there isn't a way to keep doing what you're doing,
you've gotta do something different,
even if it's not that different at all....
it's like having a yard sale to make room in your garage or whatever,
just so you have the space to fill up with different sh!t.
we all want more,
even when there isn't any more around to be had.
we'll go out looking for more, elsewhere, when that's the case.
and what's worse, and less explicable to me, anyways,
is that we'll break what we've made,
just to experience the illusion of progressive motion,
when in reality, it's just repairwork to get back to where we were.
do y'know what the problem is with a plateau?
it's not boredom.
boredom is what happens if you're boring.
i'm too busy to be bored.
the biggest problem with leveling out,
is that you're now surrounded on all sides with slippery slopes.
i don't know about you guys,
but to me,
it sure seems like that would make it awfully hard to move forward.
once you think you've reached a plateau,
it seems you're sorta stuck doesn't it,
unless you want to start back at the bottom.
which makes life start to seem a lot like a garage sale.
or am i crazy?
am i wrong?
and that's more like it.
if the only direction you'll travel is downhill,
where do we go from there?
i'm pretty sure that's where we're on our way to;
never quiet, never soft.....