Just Writing.

Only boredom has prompted this writing.

I don't know what to do with myself right now. I'm going out in a little bit. But not yet.

Today was an amazing day at work.

Amazing because I'm still amazed by the way that every day is different, the way that every person always has something new for me, the way that I continue to learn about people and to appreciate them more.

There are many people I work with. Tonight I worked with two of my favorites. They were excellent.

They are both lively, thoughtful, genuine people.

But in different ways.

W and G. Great working with you tonight.

I can't tell you guys I'm writing about you. I can't direct a piece of writing towards you.

But that is the depth I feel talking with you. Tonight. Other nights.

I feel there are these moments where we drift back and forth from being emotional, being silly, and everything in between.

So much respect for that kind of feeling.

Finding depth in laughter. Because we laugh about things that are hard. We talk about things that are very real and very confusing. And then we laugh.

I often have to distract myself with laughter.

I can't just face things straight on.

These days I really don't want to face things straight on.

I'm not very mature yet.

I'm not yet mature enough to do what I need to do.

But I still marvel at my life.

Rilke couldn't have been more right when he said "If your everyday life seems poor, don't blame it, blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches; because for the creator there is no poverty and no poor, indifferent place" (Letters to a Young Poet, 8). This statement has limits, of course. But still, I think the point is a powerful one: there is so much going on around us, so much depth in ourselves and in the people around us. I want to appreciate everything in its richness. I don't want to be overrun by drudgery. I don't want to be numbed by routine.

I want to be a poet.

I want to be a creator.