two birds

I took a walk in the rain today. I was here first, I told the rain, but if I can't talk sense into myself, I can't talk sense into the heavens. The way to handle the downpour was to stop in the middle of the street and look up. Arms stretched out. Music, for once, out of my ears and coming straight from my heart.

Then there is the more prosaic. Like fig newtons. I have been into fig newtons. And into Regina Spektor (although she is not prosaic in the least). I have been noticing potential and have been proud of my steady nerves. I've been looking around, seeing the mess, and deciding with a solid sort of resolve that this weekend, I will fix it. I've been an editor and a clown and am going to try really, really hard to actually listen this time.

I still always feel like I need a third paragraph, a third number in the series. A THIRD IDEA. WITHOUT BREAKS BETWEEN. Gosh, though, maybe I need to learn to stop with two.