I am just going to go ahead right now and apologize for that weird title. I am not really sure what i meant by it or where I was even going with it when it started to pour out of my mouth. But like old cotton candy, sometimes you just gotta clean things out of your rust bucket. Yuh nah mean?
It comes to my attention that I haven’t written in this free-flowing form in several years. A three year span to be exact. Do you know that is the length of time it takes a scorpion to fully mature? The last time I wrote on this thing, there were a bunch of eggs, or cocoons, or laser-beams, or love clouds, or whatever it is that scorpions utilize to gestate, lying about, just about ready to spit forth a bunch of six legged buggers into this world. Now usually, the ideas of babies brings a smile to your ear and a twinkle to an old fellow’s face, but in this case, in the case of tiny, terrifying little scorpion hell-spawn, we can all agree that cute is not exactly an appropriate word to describe them. Baby Panda, cute as a sack of marbles. Baby Hippo, fat and squeeze-worthy, like cotton balls. See a baby octopus, probably cute. That one is hypothetical, because I have never seen a baby octopus, but I’d imagine it might look bearable.
I graduated. Again. Whoo hoo. I am officially through with my education. I never realized this until I stepped out of my last final, but school and higher education is like slowly eeking your way through 18 years of protective Jello. Now I’m out of the mold, getting slapped in the face with 10,000 hungry spoons of a world I didn’t know existed. It is disconcerting, especially when I am more of a fork guy. Continue reading “West-Bound While Change Pours Through the Daylight.”