Johnny's In The Basement Mixing Up The Medicine

I had to jump start my day with a little Dylan. I can feel in my bones that the times, they are a changing. That each step I take is leading me forward, to the next fork in the road, the next bend of the land.

When I feel the moments beginning to stretch, to grow wide and prepare for the next leg in this journey of life, I tend to either dig my heals in or break into a sprint. Impatient, stubborn and curious to the core, I contradict my movements with my thoughts half the time.

But today I feel the future opening -- freely reaching out its gypsy hand. Like arms spread as far as they can reach before the kick of a cartwheel, or chest drawn back before feet push off and toes leave the ground as fingertips divide water and the body is submerged from a perfectly positioned dive. The first step is steeped in my soul, ready to make its move.

Monday is a snarky bitch. She's got a perma-case of Flo coming to town, and if I'm not careful, I will let her pull me back from my catapult at the starting line. But that's all in my head. I create the Monday Manic Blues, or I give in to what I feel. To the edge of possibility that I'm inching over and the abyss of dreams I am about to fall into.

"I hear that train a comin, it's rolling round the bend."

Please excuse me, while I pick up my speed and hop the caboose. It's going to be one hell of a ride.

Today's words: hobo slang