The Journal of June Labyzon

buzz buzz little bee
10/22/2014 12:06 p.m.
Aerodynamically the bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumblebee doesn't know that so it goes on flying anyway.

~Mary Kay Ash

If only I would just get started. Getting words on paper these days is as difficult as any thing I might have to do in my life. Actually getting anything done these days is difficult. My eyes open in the morning, my body begs to get out of bed, but my mind stalls it. My mind starts laying out in front of me all the things that need to get done, that I should do, that I want to do, that I’m not doing and there I lie. I don’t believe I am really a writer, perhaps I should be like the bumble bee, write in spite of myself, write in spite of the words that are eloquent in my head and acid to the paper. Yet I write in my head every day and dream in phrases that would make Shakespeare quake.

Years ago when I had time to put aside my dreams and just live my life, I did just that. It was easy because there were few dreams to be dreamt. I cheated myself then. I’m cheating myself now. These days when time is running out, my powdered honey visions erupt into aspirations which liquefy on my tongue, sticking it permanently to my cheek. People are not amused. Dream makers sometimes have to mist others to pursue their own dreams. I feel an urgency to produce, but as usual the process outweighs the product. In my dreams my mouth opens and I do not finish a sentence, I cannot bite down on vowels or consonants, I cannot swallow and so the words are not there when I awaken.
I used to feel God at the head of my bed when I was sleeping. During those times, the days in the basement gift shop I slept it in my mother’s house, the words flew out of my head and onto the paper like torturous little bastards, no parenting needed. But God no longer resides at the foot of my bed, I kicked him out years ago along with the other man in my life.
Miracles happen so maybe all this writing will not be crap. Perhaps my sensibility will be slapped to sensuality. Maybe one day I will jump without holding on to the ropes. Jump straight off the bridge between then and when and create a now.
Buzz, Buzz, Buzz….I hear you little bee. I’m right behind you.

I am currently Exhausted
I am listening to the morning news on gma

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