Adrift, destination unknown

A life gets caught in a current and carried out to sea

Somewhere there are islands, inlets, landmasses. It takes an act of will to rowboat back to shore.
Who among us has a boat?
It is the way of least resistance to see where the waterflow will take me.

Maybe, I will meet seabirds. Maybe, I will drown.

I am writing this from a couch in suburbia.

I am tired, nose running and sniffling. It’s hay fever. Or dust in the air.

My thoughts do not want to breathe clean through my body.

Tomorrow, there are errands to run. Tomorrow’s tomorrow, I will be on the road. Destination unknown. West over the mountains or South towards the settler cities. All I know is I cannot stay here for long.

I put myself in this current. I heaved my own anchor when I decided to try and live on my own terms. I gained weight over winter. My ballasts are heavy and hold me low to the water. I tried on a shirt and it was tight across my chest. I am the harvest from a season of mindless eating. Who am I to ignore the body’s desire to insulate?

I am adrift. Destination unknown.

Tomorrow’s tomorrow and tomorrow, the winds might change and a seabird will call me home to shore.

Let’s talk again soon,
Harley.