Time

keeps on slipping slipping slipping
into the future

Ti-i-i-ime

is on my side,
yes it is

No time left for you
On my way to better things
No time left for you
I found myself some wings
No time left for you
Distant roads are calling me
No time left for you, no time no time no time

*

I am inundated with time. At a time in my life
that I cannot fully appreciate such a thing.

Until October 2006, I had been working full time
and going to school part time through most of those
20 years. I had also been raising a family and cooking
and renovating and planting and cleaning and partying
and playing and singing and dancing and going to weddings
and funerals and the hospital and birthday bashes
and vacations and putting off things I did not have time to do.

Yes, I was having some fun, but I was also always
cognizant of the simple fact that if I took the time
to do one thing, then I would not have the time
to do another and would just add more stress
to my life.


Oh--there is that word-- stress. Oh how we think we know
it! And oh how we do. We do know it. We do. We just
know the direction our life goes as we follow this course
of events. We know. Why decide we know nothing
about what it is to really know stress? Why do I write
in the collective? Why am I thinking about Alan Watts--
drinker that he was--Taoist and intuitive but plagued
with all the insecurites many of us feel.

I can't spell.



Now, I have the time, but I don't have the energy
or the will or the money or the inclination to do
all the things I have put off doing.

Not put off doing as in I will do these in my retirement.
Just put off because I was tired by the TIME I got home
on any given day and just wanted to relax. To unwind. To not
think about all the things I had to do or needed to do.

*

I am up late. I've been going to bed around 9 or so.
I am inundated as well with tv and books.
Imus and Darfur and Iraq and Hip-hop and death
and the scratching of heads. Food shows and home
renovation shows. Biographies and movies. Animal
Planet and Discovery. News networks and (oh god)
even talk shows now and then. Time has permitted
such atrocities.

Not to say I haven't learned a trick or two for the evening
meal or the garden. Good things to know. Good things
when one has more time on ones hands.

Not to say I haven't learned more
about Hitler and Stalin. Things that I wish
I didn't know. Things that just elaborated on the already
horrific things I knew.

Not to say I haven't seen more
of the beautiful work of Kahlo and Wright and Evans
and Matisse. Things that make me hungry for more.
That make me want to take more road trips
to museums and galleries. Things I have time
for but no money to do.

Not to say I haven't listened to more
Dylan and Reed and REM and Lucinda.
I have already invested my money in these
things. These people. Their work. Why did
I not play them more before when I was cooking
dinner or cleaning the house.

Or did I and I just can't remember?

Time. It has this way of altering perception.
Or we have the way. Time is just a human device.


And we are so hung up on things like time.

Like I am thinking now it is after 10. Past my bed
time, which used to be my wake up and greet the world time.

Time for another glass of merlot. Cheap merlot at that.