(no subject)

[greenstorm]

Time was I could see the future

I still remember fragments as they occur

These days I try not to look into the future

It doesn't serve me

Hope doesn't serve me

If anything is meant to serve us, it is ourselves

The world isn't built for it

Unless we cherry-pick

Blossom-pick

Menu-pick

Even with the biggest plate we can't try everything at the buffet of life

And so much of it will be terrible

So we serve ourselves

Not what we're supposed to like

Not what is supposed to make life worth living

But what we actually love

Olives

Anchovy spread

Mochi

Store-bought potato chips

The stinkiest cheese oozing with orange washed rind

Little hot pickles

Winding through the choices people will say

"Try some of this, it's excellent!"

"Ugh, I could never eat that."

And you will want to take Jane's dip to make her feel better. Don't.


Ignore it all

If someone else wants hope

They can take all the hope

Load their plates

Fill their pockets

Live in the unknown future

And leave the shining pearls of each living moment

Inside the glistening oysters

Raw, briny, unpolished

On the table for me