The problem is the transition.
I can handle the departure -
I am schooled and steeled in the ways of departures -
and I am never one made anxious by arrivals either,
which bear only the jittery excitement of “new.”
The problem is the journey. The “getting there.”
There are all sorts of pitfalls and flat tires and countless digressions that a journey can take,
unexpected plot twists that cannot be planned for.
The problem is that I feel so inspired by the darker moods of life,
so much so that I edge closer and closer to the toxic pockets of oozing sludge.
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