It all goes down in the mind

The mad month of March is upon us, sliding into home base with a flurry of full moon dust and  winter debris. Already I feel the madness welling up within me, the fluster of "much to do" lists mixed with the driving need for disconnect and solitude, but the dreaded demand of function and performance prevails and to my cave, my retreat must be scheduled in and my trips into the psychedelic, timed, calculated and measured. Enough to drive anyone to the brink, but aha! the brink! The Brink of change! The brink of existence! The brink of Breakthrough! We are almost there, there into the Spring of things, we are almost there... I can taste the pre-wafting perfume of budding clematis already, the hyacinths are starting to tease my nose. Spring is not far off! But Oh!!! March!!! How you mess with my mind!? How you tempt and tease me to withdraw and retreat and yet taunt me with breaks in weather, with sunny days and sprouting plants. You cruel and fierce-some month... you are unkind in your jest, your tantrums are selfish and mean, your flux and swing, your manic moods do me unwell as I surrender all and fall, into the depths of my own wells, boiling and bubbling over with creative elixir, timed with a device as to keep one foot on Jacobs ladder while the other is in the fire!


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