Desert Flowers

Went out to the desert yesterday. Not a soul around for a 100 miles.  I’m so at peace in the desert. Bounced around taking pohots of the couple of desert flowers I could find blooming. Marveld at how a simple 5 feet differnce in elevation change in slope made such a diffence in their bloom time. And thought to myself maybe I’m just the flower at the lower elvation wating for the sun to hit me yet. Maybe. Thats a good thought. 

Thought about the book I started. I want to write. Feel like that is all I have to do right now but the idea confuses me. How do you write a story with no ending? Maybe my gift has never been in crafting stories but in telling the truth, in sharing the human condtion of struggle and that there are really no happy endings. There are moments in life when you simply think you have it all and moments when you are gasping for air. All those people that would tell you they made it are lying, they don’t go off into the sunset. Eat Pray and Love didn’t end that way and cinderlla eventually popped out some babies and got fat, and that’s ok. It’s all part of the journey and people should know that they are not failing, they are not alone. 

What the hell maybe I should go make a vision boad instead. Or put on my best stetson and jeans and strut around the bar lol…those are both not happening though fyi tho i do enjoy the old guys at the bar, they make me swoon, especially the ones that dance :) there is nothing more lovley than smiling ear to ear dancing to a country song with a charming old cowboy that tells stories as well as he dances. Yeah….just the thought makes me smile. 

Last week when the shit hit the fan and I realized it was over I went to the bar. I fucked up big time too. Don’t feel a bit bad about it either. Worst day of my life I’m entitled. I think I walked in around 4pm and started downing doubles of Jameson. I was 6 of those in when this old guy Chuck I know showed up. Poor Chuck asked how I was. I told him. lol. He’s in his 60 and took it upon himself to take care of me and has been checking up on me ever since. That night we drank until I couldn’t drink anymore and then he drove me to the local diner and got me some food, took me to his house, dumped me in his bed while he took his couch. So thankful for old guys at bars. That was exactly what I needed. We laughed about stupid shit and I felt safe. Reminds me there are angels everywhere.