Say what you will about Robert Frost, but taking the road less traveled is not always what it is cracked up to be. Summer before last, Rhondi and I were on the road in Maine and took a wrong turn and I’m pretty sure both of us figured to be eaten by some crazy backwoods MaineBillies. It was a road that neither of us had ever been on and would probably be hard to find again.
I sit back and think sometimes about the roads I didn’t travel and what would have come of my life if I had just made a different choice here or there. I think everyone does it. While it is not quite as fun as thinking about what you would do if you won powerball or if you were given that dream job, it is a thought process that, if done right, I think means you can become a lot more self-aware.
One of the most important parts of having healthy self-esteem or being emotionally intelligent is knowing yourself. For people like me, I think this is really key as I’ve been in a lifelong quest to know myself better and understand why I do and say the things I say. This also comes down to the things I write or the songs I create. Sometimes I have no idea where they come from, and I like it.
They are the roads less traveled, too.
A conversation I had yesterday, though, made me think about these words and where they come from for a while. What part of my brain is talking to me when I’m deep in writing? Am I dealing with some repressed shit sometimes? Probably.
Lately I’ve been trying to really get into some stream of consciousness poetry writing and as I look back on a few things I’ve written, I’m a bit flabbergasted. I need to explore more, I suppose. Maybe we all do. I think everyone should write, for example, even if it is only for your eyes only. Write this stuff down.
I’ve thought about writing stories based on the roads I didn’t travel. Would that be an exercise in mental masturbation? Maybe. Would it be interesting to anyone other than me? Probably not. How would I start without hurting anyone’s feelings. Would I have to change the circumstances a lot or just a little? I am probably agonizing over nothing. I need to finish a damn story before I start too many more.
There once was a lady named Marcy,
Who never once acted too farce-y,
She loved a certain movie,
And thought it was groovy,
To make people watch it at parties.
(that was terrible…no more limericks)
My weak attempt at humor
Goes unbuckled like a belt you hate to wear.
Life marches on, so you better not be scared.
Just go with it.
Flow with it.
Don’t give a shit and do not quit.
The wisest man carries nothing
But a small bag and some sunglasses.
If you can’t carry it in a small bag
It’s not worth shlepping around.
Wise man chuckles.
Flow with it.
Go with it.
Do not carry shit you don’t want.
Imbibe a little now and again.
The dog gets frustrated, too, but
She might not get as annoyed
If you are good and drunk.
That’s when the treats come out.
Chew on it.
Stew on it.
Let her smell the poo on it. (ewww gross)
Don’t care about shit no one loves.
Your phone says, “You have notifications.”
What about gratifications and salutations?
Any independent nations?
Blippity-boo and robots, too.
Clip art that shit.
Take a hit.
Release a fart for art’s sake.
But don’t shake and do not quit.
Do not sit this one out, pilot.
6-6-23 is basically the devil’s day again. 6-6 – (2x3=6). Go easy with a ouija board today.
See you tomorrow.
Hard to believe this was almost 15 years ago. The kid did good this particular day. Was a proud moment for us all to be there with him. I'm very proud of the man he continues to become. He's going to be a great dad.