What happens if I quit?

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then all that is left is you, the last line of this poem - Just lovely you.

 

sometimes i don't even have me :'(



thanks for letting me identify darlin

 

a strangely zen poem Pard
maybe pure zen...

 

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peace and chaos are kissing cousins. So are fear and excitement. That ain't zen, just me.

 

that is how many have grappled with this for centuries--caught between the life force that drives us all and the great inevitable void--you phrased it well--peaceful yet frightening

 

not many people are brave enough think about this let alone do it.

 

It sounds like a place of absolute peace and freedom. I wish I could go there just for a vacation. I am tired of thinking.
I want the wind to blow without obstruction through my head.

 

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Burd worded it very poetically and perfectly
so now it seems you both aspire to be airheads...
that might be worthy of a poem...let me think...or is that unthink

 

With all the clutter I have cycling around up there I will need gale-force winds. Not all of it is useful you know.

Thank you.
My poetic moments come in little bits and pieces. That's all I got.

Write on my poet friend...of airheads, inner cranial clutter and tempests, if you feel the words coming.

 

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What a way to view it...I'm seeing my thoughts looking like that closet we all have, the one we rarely open up and only to quickly toss in yet one more thing we can't part with and are sure it may be useful one day, but don't know what to do with, and you see possible exceptional intelligence. Something tells me your "closet" looks different than mine.

And yes, you are welcome to the phrase. If you can turn it into positive rhetoric then I am pleased and flattered.

 

I read a book years ago in which chaos was named a kind of organization albeit different from the norm. That has helped me immensely when I am confused (ADD) and overwhelmed (ADD+brainfog).

Yes, my pencil is nicely sharpened and I have been playing with those fine words you two presented to the world so eloquently

 

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Gonna add "quit" and "luxury to the bunch. Just playing here.

 

Some of my thoughts defy boundaries, and while I can push them around a bit, a sort of cranial clutter shuffle, they like to surprise and vex me with repeated, uninvited attention. Regular little houdini thoughts they are, they laugh at doors and locks. It's a constant battle to keep them from driving me crazy. The most affective locks and doors come in the form of a movie, book, tv show, or cd, but it is fleeting.

Organized chaos...that describes it perfectly.

 

Play is good.

 

i think if I quit - I will either die or learn to live