looking for nothing

the beauty of this disconnect from any real life~ is this wonderfully senseless wondering

not really looking for something i don't know i'm looking for

which i was telling my son ~ is the greatest sense~ that we have lost~

the wonder of going to library's and wandering without focus,

finding books you weren't looking for

some things you never knew~ never saw~ or wanted too, or even knew you needed

this modern form of knowledge brings great gifts

but, i'm happy that i can still simple walk the streets alone, thirsty, roaming, lost

out wild looking for something~

which just might not exist

miller and bukowski spend a lot of time talking about the years they spent in public libraries

unemployed~ hopeless, but for words and blank pages before their eyes

all i wanted was a salmon berry~ but the sun and the lack of rain killed them all~

i find trails people don't use for fear of hobo camp maniacs~ serial killer strollers~

biggest DIY eyesore on the lake~ wondrous

this house is almost a real haunted house, as though it is trying to actually kill

i love the stair case, a home made sawhorse connected to a pallet leaning against a broken modified ladder

home bee

have been reading the David Douglas biography, titled~ the collector,

he collected wild plants, here in the PNW, in the 1820's, the Douglas fir is named for him, but he did so much more~ poor book, but a great story and a life~ really makes you want to get up off the chair and ~

die

maybe every story should end in a flower