Of the Wolf

The other day I was walking to the bus stop to catch the bus to work.

– I live in a very small town. I’m not hardly going to say that I know who *everyone* is, because that would be absurd.

I do walk a lot though, and at this point, I kind of recognize most of the other people who walk a lot?

So I was walking to the bust stop, and I passed this guy, and y’know. I’m from a fucking small town, and I do the stupid ‘smile and wave’ thing every time I pass someone. Or like – kind of give a nod of acknowledgement whenever you cross in front of a car? like ‘Hey, thanks. I know I might technically have right-of-way, but like. If you hit me I would still totally die, so thanks for letting me walk here, friend.’

I got to the bus stop and the guy walks up to me.

I had, of course never seen this guy before in my life, and he was slurring his words so badly I could barely even understand him, and – I’ll be honest, like. Dude was probably totally off his face on *something*.

Still, I was like. Trying to be friendly or whatever, kind of doing the whole ‘Smile and Nod’ thing.

He took my hand, and like, grabbed the back of my neck – (at which point, I definitely started freaking out a little bit because DUDE I DON’T KNOW IS TOUCHING ME AND HOW DO I GET OUT OF THIS.) – and he starts talking about auras. – Which, to be fair, there is a significant amount of conversations about auras that happen in this town. There’s a very strong subculture for things like that.

And he was holding my hand, and started telling me that I have the aura of a wolf.

He paused for a moment to contemplate that maybe I was a little bit fox, but then shook his head, and decided that, no, I was most definitely a wolf. Because wolves, as he said, “They look out for the pack, but they know, they have to look out for themselves first. You care for the pack, but you have to come first.”

… and then the bus showed up, and I most definitely sort of ran away.

But the thing is…

I like that.

And maybe this is going to be my year of the wolf.

Maybe that’s what I’ve been doing for the past year. Maybe that’s the path that I’m on.

I spent so long thinking that my worth was what I could give to other people. That there was some kind of glory in sacrifice and martyrdom.

Those thought-forms…run really, really deep in me. I honestly think that there will be no point in my life where I won’t have those ideas lingering in my brain at some level.

But I have never in my life met a happy martyr.

I’m fairly certain I’ve written it here before, but the advice that first broke through all of that in my brain: “Don’t do anything for anybody else that you wouldn’t be willing to do for yourself.”

If you’re willing to drop everything and fly across the country for your friend, be willing to do the same for yourself.

How in the world can I support the people I love when I’m not supporting *myself*.

 

So here it is, I guess.

I raise my glass to Creepy Bus Station Guy, and here’s to having the Aura of a Wolf.

 

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Poetry Pot-Luck

The other day I heard some women discussing poetry. I poked my head in and got invited to their poetry pot-luck tonight!

The theme of the evening is, I guess, a line from (or inspired by? I’m  not sure…) “The Revenant” but it is :”snow doesn’t melt on a dead man”.

 

Intense, eh?

 

I’m  really excited fo r a chance to be writing poetry again.

 

 

Cared For

I talk about this a lot, I think, but I’m rather of the opinion it’s a good thing.

 

I have the most amazing friends.

 

I have friends who will pick up the phone if I call them at one in the morning, and I’m freaking out and I’ve forgotten about time zones.

I have friends who write me letters, friends who send me music, friends who write me essays on the meaning behind the lighting of a music video.

 

I have friends who are so beautiful, and they are so fundamental to my life.

They’re there when I need them, and every time I get to interact with them, I’m reminded how incredible they all are; how inspiring and incredible these people are, and how much they improve my life.

 

And sometimes, when things get a bit rough, I end up with a package in the mail; a box that’s been filled with a new multi-tool and letter.

 

My friends are amazing people, and I am so cared for.

 

Even if we’re thousands of miles apart. My friends can still help me up when I’m stumbling.

Ill-Advised Walks

I keep deciding to go on walks, which, of course, is nothing new for me.

My work schedule has been a bit strange lately though, so I’m on a bit of a different time scheme than I’m used to, so whenever I get up and I’m like ‘Ahh, yes! Time to go for a walk!’

 

By that point, it’s… high noon in Texas.

And I really like walking and making questionable decisions, so I always…

choose to go walking.

At noon.

In Texas.

 

I have started carrying a *very* large water bottle, and I’ll just say that I have reached the point where I have one of the most incredible tan lines I’ve ever acquired, and it’s from the straps of my backpack.

 

GOOD DECISIONS!!

*True* Supplies for University

I went walking through the shops the other day, and I found this:

 

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And, I know it’s probably just the angle I was walking, but I DON’T CARE.

 

What do I need to take with me to university?

 

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GIANT STUFFED PILLOWS AND POKEMON CARDS.

 

Mis-Read Tea Leaves

Yesterday, I was all ‘IT’S A SIGN! GO ON AN ADVENTURE!!!’

Well.

I attempted to go on an adventure.

 

I got about ten miles out of town, when my bike started slipping out of gear.

I pulled into the nearest place where I thought anyone might now what was going on.

(It was a diesel truck station.)

(I fucking love truckers.)

So, I knocked on their door, said ‘Hey, I know you really don’t do this here, but I my bike is freaking out and I don’t know why. Any chance you could help?’

So, they made a phone call, and sent me next door to meet Manny.

Manny used to ride bikes, back in the day. So, I explained my issue, and then he hopped on the bike, drove it around a bit, and told me that he was pretty sure it was a clutch issue, and my best bet was to take it in, if I couldn’t fix it myself.

Then he gave me the end of his french fries.

(I love truckers.)

 

So, I got back on my bike, and managed to limp her back home.

I don’t have the tools to give it a go myself at the moment, so I’m going to have to take her in and get her looked at by a professional.

 

Let’s hope *that* goes well.

 

In the meantime, I get to rediscover the joys of wandering by foot and by bus.

So, other adventures! Huzzah!