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Hell.
Seventeen dollars for a carved piece of lacquered wood I break in a day.
Investment profit: $ -17,00
I broke my bokken on a tree, practicing in a small wood by the neighborhood.
Decided to take the dogs with me. Let them get the smell of spring. Thought that I would train, and settle on the top of a rock to take in the new season myself.
Eleven A. ( Read more... )
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I Understand. It feels good I know.
I know what it felt like. Altho
now all i have is swamps and mud holes.
So i knew what a cold boulder and a tiny
wood felt like when the tides of this
phenomenom we all call seasons turns.
We all love spring. I know i do.
Now shhhhhH! Quiet. Listen to the chirps.
The meandering talk of the leaves of the
all knowing trees, the creek bed trickles
and the dogs finally feeling what natures
all about after a long winter. Listen carefully Dan,
there telling you not to tell anyone.
I guess. Atleast thats what they tell me.
Enjoy Dan. We are one of the same mold. You know.
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They'd never told me not to talk, to never tell a soul what they've said.
Something else is keeping me from speaking up, from speaking out.
Something like a jarring wave that wakes against myself without a rhythm, without a grace.
I guess, like a desperate weatherman that reports bad weather when he wants to wreck the sunshine before it wrecks him.
I have to get back to it.
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