Time Rhumbas

And the seasons, they go 'round and 'round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captured on the carousel of time.
--Joni Mitchell

A year has passed and another blog post. Trying to write. Trying to be. Now, 2012. Thinking as I grow older what currency has been accumulated and what good anything has come to. Experience is both the reward and the baggage I haul. Yet here I am in downtown Los Angeles at another Starbucks. Waiting for something to happen.

I hope that something does.

Success surrounds me, but I feel like the boy in the bubble, watching and wondering. I can record the symptoms and bear witness to the rotations, but like the painted pony, a clown of sorts, I'm stuck in the middle. I hope the oxygen lasts and will allow me to burn, and burn bright.