Midsummer song for a wasted year

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The brilliance of 8 p.m. on summer solstice, the insignificance of individual life in contrast with the all-encompassing fires of Litha. The light at the apex while the heart is cave-like and ringing the hollow songs of anxiety and ache.

Ten in the shade, reversed and sinking lower while still whispering “what goes down must come back around.” Whispering as if it spoke a truth alike to gravity.

To be sure, I’ve found no truth to the mechanisms of fate, no patterns to recognize among the things which happen and the things which do not. What goes down can continue burrowing because the earth is a greater thing than a heart or a nerve.

Though it is bright and beautiful, I sit under the oak and shift the card in the grass under my hands that shake as my lungs rattle with cough and cry.

Though today is a long day, the days that follow will be shorter and darker. And even with all this sun I can’t help but feel the world is small and dark already and I’m not sure how much more of this shaded brevity I can endure.

In pursuit of the end

Tomorrow is the last day of April and the bookkeeping says I’ve done a thing, dice rolled and scores settled. I finished a draft that’s been hanging open for months. I donated time and detailed critiques to our local writers’ org. I wrote things about writing things. I’m finally caught up with NaPoWriMo drafts. I’m nearly two chunky chapters into the project I originally planned most of my focus around.

My focus has wandered this month but I made my original 15k goal and then looked to my cabin’s combined goal. Now I’m not maybe 1k shy and edging closer with every word.

My point is, sometimes you have to improvise. Life gets in the way and you may not be able to devote the time or energy you wanted into the project that needs it most. But it’s infinitely better to keep writing or just do creative stuff rather than waiting around for the right time.

I will still be working on “Lost Constellations” next month but I’m better for keeping my creative energy up and working on other projects.

That doesn’t mean what you think it does

So often we hear, “freedom of speech, man!” or “free country!” The first amendment is brought up whenever someone pushes back on a disagreement or gets slammed with a boycott because they said something pigheaded or just fucking wrong. “You’re infringing on my rights!” They speak as if the founders were concerned with a future epidemic of butthurt as they felt the great weight of framing a new country on their shoulders. The first amendment and “freedom of speech” is evoked at almost any slight — can’t weave together a coherent string of words and the newspaper declined your ‘letter to the editor’? FREEDOM OF SPEECH! Your employer or editor found problematic tweets or blog posts and declined to employ or publish you? FREEDOM OF SPEECH! The venue you were scheduled to speak or play got tired of your internet trolling activities and decided you weren’t worth the cash needed to secure and insure the event? FREEDOM OF SPEECH! Problem being, this doesn’t mean what you think it does.

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