"When the root is strong the fruit is sweet"
I keep thinking about reversing plastic planter shapes. Breaking up fibers to loosen roots, digging into new soil, pouring water into soggy earth. It's almost that time where the sun comes out. All the nerves stretch out like pointed toes. Things have changed this winter. As uneventful and prominent as ever. I started thinking about Galveston. A place I can't stop going back. A foreign object in a place that was constant. If anything was planter shapped it was this. Lately the roots are splayed out everywhere. I keep going back to change. I'll try to deny it, but I like it when things are the same in one place. The still middle, in a spinning room. My same is different. I have to get used to another way. Sometimes I wish everyone stayed young, everything was just like high school on Pine Street. I have long since overcome my fear of change, but I didn't want to. Give me my way, my roots would be compact. I keep turning around, and seeing something else. I'm almost past all the things I once never wanted to face. I still suffer from my knee jerk reaction, but things keep happening and I out grow my pot. Sometimes I am a reluctant root.
Lesson #57: Break up the cluster