Been a while, was focused on prepping for the comprehensive exam. Found out the results a few days ago. I failed it, again.
I have run out of options as far as American literature and the university of New Orleans, at least it feels that way. There was some talk about another approach. It was lost in the redness of my rage. A few angry, poorly directed, words later, I am sitting in the sun comtemplating my next moves.
I'd already told myself it was just a move, that I do what I do regardless. But the realness of a thing is a different duck. It's a beautiful day and I'm waiting on my pardna, my smile, to arrive. I loaded up Pandora and the first song up? Collie Buddz's "Movin on."
God telling me something, sure, in his cryptic giveth/takeith away style. For a moment I embrace the anger, sneer at the old positive slant sayings like, "if it doesn't open its not your door," or "he works in mysterious ways." That stuff, that way of thinking is just Shit fuelin the fire.
So I just listened to the words and heard the message. Buddz is a stupid handle, but the words are on point. Move on. Enough of that.
I have about ten more pages to edit in "Hang, the Hunter," my fantasy story, before I submit it to publishers. Then I finish the editing on "Drifting Priest," my space story. Jason and I are working on a screenplay and my grandson is trying his damndest to get me back into music. I am blessed.
My pardna, my muse, smile shows up. It would be a lie to say the anger disappeared, but it was made trivial.
