Haze

Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing, that’s all that Bobby left me, yeah,
But feeling good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues,
Hey, feeling good was good enough for me, hmm hmm,
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.

‘Twas a lovely Friday morning singing to the Radio, my car windows rolled down, Me and Bobby McGee playing loud. I’m breaking ice with my weekdays, and weekends now- trying hard to do everything I want to do- although so much of me is lost in somewhere, not certain where, not certain where to.

This is what it truly is to live in the moment, then. Not looking into the ghastly, painful, confusing past- because I’m not sure what happened there- and not looking into the strange, and uncertain future- I’m not sure what will happen there.

And, so there I am, guileless at a nightclub, singing through the Pune winter, laughing at a comedy show, racing at an RPM class, dancing to the morning radio, jabbering with a new friend, unable to write…and unable to love…and unable to dream…and unable to pick a certain hope. So much is happening, and so little is, and

everything’s kind of in a haze.

Who knows?

 

 

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