I can relate to or at least see a piece of myself in that storm-filled-guy glimpsed walking down Samish. Couldn’t make out words, was driving too fast, but he was pointing and yelling directly at me/everything. Chemically imbalanced or soul out of balance I wasn’t sure, but he was spitting.

I can also imagine the potential of me in the Mayor or Chris Cornell.

Without looking too hard I can see myself wearing ten year old taped-up sneakers or brand new leather Danners.

 

I am not above/below it. A choice or turn or two here or there –> a support or influence absent along the way and –> my landing spot’s not clear.

 

Am here right now about to press send and I’m either underachieving or doing a great job keeping it together.