I spotted this little cozy little cove driving down the road
on the other side of the lake, the side I hadn’t been on before. When you live
close to one side, you tend to just go to the same place every time. I have walked quite a
bit down its makeshift shore before, but never as far as the entire lake. It’s
something like 9.3 miles. At least that's what I found on my casual glance on Google. I love little places I
can hide away, so I love that this bench is blocked by a large bush-like thing
that smells like a Christmas tree, on one side. It’s off the road, with a little
wetland area in front of me and a bridge in front of that and the lake in front
of it. So basically a lot of distance between me and people walking the trail. Just
the way I like it. The Strumbellas play in my ears and my thoughts are still on
a beautiful Canadian actress I watched in a show earlier, who I wrote a letter
to once…just for the hell of it. Just because; what’s life without a little
impossibility and craziness? I was going to write about this single white
tree across the lake, full of blackbirds. But I’m not up for comparing it to
how old and gray and dying I feel…so I’m not going to write about that today. I
keep thinking about my zombie apocalypse story and how this very lake was the
opening setting of my story. It’s where I sought refuge- in a boat in the
middle of the lake. As long as the government doesn’t bomb over here, I think
it would be a pretty good idea. As long as you had enough water and food…and
bullets, just in case the floating bodies started to pile up too much, so much
so that they could possibly overtake your boat. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come
to that. This overgrown bush next to me though, could be a little hiding place,
for awhile…just saying.
Not a whole lot to say today…the lake is quite peaceful to
look at and it’s lulling me, and since the sun has gone down behind me, it
feels much better, because I wore a sweatshirt thinking it was cold outside,
but it wasn’t. There’s a hell of a lot of birds and ducks out in the trees and
water to my left. Like so much so that it’s a bit creepy. They are all dark and
they look scary and ominous in large, dead, white trees. Like they are plotting
something. Maybe they are congregating to plan our takeover. I think a bunch
might be ducks. I don’t know. Can ducks make it to a tree? I think they can
actually fly pretty high, but I don’t think they sit in trees. I love it when
they fly just over the water really fast. They are so close but don’t touch it.
Maybe they are looking for bugs or tiny fish on the surface, or maybe they want
to be close to the water so that they can make an emergency water landing, if
they get too tired flapping those wings. I respect the duck. I like how they
don’t give a shit if they’re popular or not. Sometimes they are out in groups,
but more often than not I always see one off by itself. Sometimes they are
close to a group, just on the outside and sometimes they are far off on their
own. They don’t seem to care either way. They’ll even be side by side and then
one will be like “peace out I’m going this way, don’t follow me Carl.” And off
he goes. And Carl’s like “huh? What ya say?” as he continues on his merry little
way. A duck likes its “me time.” Much like I do. If realistic human robots
existed, I would so get one for the company and be like ok I’m done, off you go
and power them down. Ha ha. I’m kidding…kind of. As much as I would like a
partner in life and love, I’ve been alone for so so long. Like over 10 years, so I would most
definitely have a hard time adjusting to having someone around all the time. I’m
sure I’d run off to this very lake as much as I could. I mean I still want
someone to hold me and kiss me and to talk to, but it’s a matter of what I’m
used to. 10 years is a long time. A really long time. That’s why I fucking love
the duck. Right now looking out at them, almost all of them are off on their
own. When they feel like congregating together, they do, but if one goes off on
its own, they don’t follow it, they don’t chase it down and say “please don’t
go! Pay attention to me!” They give it its personal space and let it be. I don’t
think they’re lonely. I don’t really think I’m lonely. I want the physical
intimacy that I’ve been without for 10 years. I want that. But like the duck, I
like to be on my own most of the time. It’s fine by me. It gives me writing
time. It allows me to be in these worlds I’ve created with my words and I love
that. The duck can be near a group when she wants and off by herself when she
wants to, or side by side by another duck friend, whenever she wants that too. There’s
so much space in a lake, I don’t think they feel trapped. And they also have
the ability to fly away, which can be a quick getaway when need be, I’m sure.
So you do you, duck. You go girl. You do with your life what you want…well, you
have your nature to attend to as well, but let’s forget that part for a sec.
You glide peacefully along the water at the slowest pace ever, for as long as
you want, all by yourself. You do that. You get to. Because you’re in control
of you. And when you want to go join the others, you do that. But never stop
being who you are…a duck. Because you have to. You were made a duck. And ducks don't give a fuck.
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