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Back the green ford ranger into the graveled driveway and drag your rough cedar out of the bed. You are deliberate and certain. There is a solid vision and no hurry to get there. Imagine a yard full of flowers. Imagine a yard full of cedar boxes full of dirt and lively plants. The recipe is pretty simple looking back: one part complete boredom, one part something to do, one part loving your parents and one part waiting to die.
Happy Birthday
There is a long stale white corridor where a woman is crying inside a rigid institution built at the heighth of understanding when we were comfortable with complicated, vague and unhelpful remedies for our ills. Far too many people pass through this endless space where healing is infrequent and slow death all too certain. You are an expert in such places counting endless days of your life there. You walk blindly through the cafeteria down the hall towards the game room to play asteroids. The Rolling Stone marches on.
You welcome the light of day and even the night on the outward side of the door. Don’t even try and draw a circle around your actions or write them down in a book. You’ll emerge an apostate. But you see clearly outside. Opportunities abound outside. You will stay on the outside
It’s the day after your birthday, so spring forth eternal. Put on your new shirt and get teased by your friends. It’s not a day to ride the scooter. Look around your self, there is plenty. Be glad and be grateful.
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