could it really be 12? because they keep saying 13 makes more sense, 13 moons and all. I used to see it that way, or beg it that way, but it seems like an awfully big lie to maintain for generations. 12 is also a better number, or a safer number, as I see it.
I entered the new year on odd feet, confused in my path and shaky. in all the mirrors I scoffed, at my man threw gripes. thank God he shook me back to myself. there is worry in the pit of money, of ability, I am the ultimate imposter and caught in the act. what good is all the worry and shame, anyway? fixate on the surreal nature of our lives, cash has no meaning (beyond the very threatening, assigned meaning) and am I free by this? no, let it be real and let me push myself to freedom, excel beyond the bounds I have set myself.
tomorrow I can rise, select my biddings, tread on better, stronger feet. I am willing towards what I need, and willfulness goes an awful long way. dear God, thank you for a new year and all the lessons I have set forth on my path. I pray it gives and gives, I will too.
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