This sucks.

I was going to write a list of the things my students probably think about me.
I was going to talk about how people probably perceive me here.
But to be honest, it's me.
I'm making poor choices.
I'm judging people more.
I see a big truck drive by, and I hate it.
I used to be nicer.  Not really nice, not free of judgement.
But better.
And now, now that I've achieved my goal, of teaching.
It's still not good enough.
The moneys not.
The hours aren't.
I'm not active in the way I want.
I don't have friends here.
I'm not attracted to anyone I meet here.
Nobody shares my interests.
It's probably hard for you to believe.
"Oh, you'll meet someone you get along with."
Well, actually, you know what?
You don't live here.  You don't know.
This,
Sucks.

Difference.

Metamorphosis is a dangerous and unclean act. Have you seen the carapace inside the chrysalis? It happens between the ears in this case. It leaves husks. Husks are like shadows, or like metaphors. Metaphorphasis for change.

Zone.

We do our best impressions when everyone's looking.
Someday our masks will be our faces.
And that day was 50 years ago.
50 times twilight
zone.
(It's better, and in reverse.)

All true.

Birds I've seen today,
Sandpiper, Hummingbird.
Birds I haven't seen today,
Sapjaw, Three-chested Albarol.

the year that i broke my leg.

So you broke your leg
And you smile all day,
but when you get home,
and you is (me),
you get home
and you don't smile at all
and nobody sees that
and you didn't break your leg even
so what's your excuse.

Showing Appreciation.

I never liked that metaphors
weren't as blunt as
"Thank you sir,
for the coffee and the letter."

I didn't miss your missive.
In fact I just received it today.
And I want to say,
"Thank you sir,
for the coffee and the letter."

It's true though,
I haven't got much to offer in return,
Except for a place to stay,
and nice things I'll say.
"You've got a nice rump.  Have you been working out, that precious little behind?"

We'll see.

I used to talk about my "problem."

No, not that.

Or that.

Well, maybe that.

No!  Nothing like that.

Oh.  Oh, no.  That's a thing.  No, definitely not that.

No, like a regular people a problem.

Like, not having a job,

Or enough sex.

Or not having a job you really want.

Or sex with the people you really want.

Actually.  Those were my two problems.

That's it.

Then I solved the job one,

Probably, effectively,

Took myself out of running for the other one.
(Moved!)

That's working for now.

We'll see. (Could be a new problem.)

Could be an old problem, 

Anew.

Prorated.

One month later
And my days have reversed
I still see sunrise, 
but from the other side.
And what was a backwards day
Is backwards turned again,
Not forward restored,
But all twisted up.

Mask.

I used to, and I think a lot of people who've worn masks, and I'm talking about literal masks here, have had the experience that they're freeing.  That when you're wearing a mask, you can do and say what you wouldn't normally say.  But a while ago, I had the opportunity, and it caused a reversal for me.  Masks, no need.  Freeing is not wearing a mask.  There's a fear, that without the mask the bunting will be stripped clean.  That without the mask, the beat red face, the pounding nerves, will be the end of it.  There's no coverup.  It's like, so what if you're having that dream where you show up nude to some important something.  You're ready, but you're nude.  So what?  Get it over with.  You're nude.  That's the end of it then.  Can't show up double nude.  No mask then?  That's it.  You're you, and that's all you're ever going to be.  The best mask is your own face.  Take it off, and it's still your own face.

Badly told.

A man is performing standup.  He's just started at it, and he's not bad.  It's mostly just latent story telling, and some ability to hold the attention of a crowd.  Denial, that the jokes are good.  But when the girl he really likes walks in, one of his jokes references his inability to express his interest in girls he likes.  Paralysis.  It's Joyce.  She walks in, and mid-joke, he has, "And so there's this girl I like." And his eyes scan the room, locking on the girl.  "That girl."  And so then he leaves the stage.  Asks her out.  They leave.  And the catch here is that now that he's gotten up the courage to say what he wants, is he still funny?  No.  But there's time, and there's endless places for jokes to flow from.

Practical advice about splitting wood.

Axes are neat, but when you really need to
do some mauling, I'd suggest, well,
a Maul.

Don't do go for the 12 lbser, it's just
too much weight to swing over
200 and sixty times.

It's a simple tool.  It's simple tool use.
It's simple, too. 

Axes need sharpening.
Better when they're just wedges.