i have typed

until dawn.  I woke before 5 a.m. and gave in to the need to write anything.  And I did, in the private journal kept offline.

rusty.  that's what i am.  creaky like an old metal wheel that won't turn without effort, looking for a place to loosen up without making a spectacle of myself in the public eye.

but predawn is a good time to write down dreams and goals.  I think the difference between those two is - dreams are what you don't set into motion.  goals are what you work to achieve.

i'm not much of a dreamer anymore.  my eyes are too full of goals, and my dreams never netted me anything more than a pang for what will never be.  but i'm happy with something to work for and toward.  and i have a lot of goals, lately.  some i have already achieved, some will take time. 

i originally intended this space to be for poetry, but have decided...i don't want to write odes to broken things that can't be fixed.  that focuses too much on the past and what doesn't work anymore.  i would rather focus on the future and what might be attainable.

no lost love, no grieving for what won't be.  no allowing someone else to set my limits based on their hopeless version of reality.

in my very humble opininon, those who allow a perceived  reality to stand in the way of what could well be happiness are afraid of failing.  and perhaps afraid of living.  they lack the passion for life and feeling and daring...but that isn't a fault.  it's just...sad, because they must have been hurt badly at some point...

my way is reaching for it, experiencing it, learning from it if it does fail.  and most of all, my way is living to the fullest.  but that's just me.

i guess i'm anything but tepid. and i may be a lot foolish, but i could not live without the zest.