I have these paint brushes hanging on my wall over my desk back in the office...some are used and have paint residue on them and others are new and unused...all different sizes and shapes...some flat bristle...some round. I stare at them sometimes and look upon them as the many things I do to occupy my time while I wait...one for my CPL Fellowship...one for my work with Alwun House...one for The Icehouse...one for my cat...one for my friend Barry...one for my probation officer...one for my photography...one for GiveClicks.com...one for the urban abode and on and on and on and on, so forth, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...
Busy little brushes they are....all lined up in a modicum of order...each with their own place...own color...own spot on the palate...each serving to sop up time like bread in gravy while I wait...
The problem resides in the fact that I have no clue what I'm waiting for...but I'm waiting just the same...the other shoe dropped years ago so that's not it...nope...it's something else.
Bad luck? Success? Fame? Fortune? Love? Lust? Ripped through all those like a box of Kleenex when you have a cold many years ago....there they are crumpled up in the corner over there...see them all?
Death? Naw..."Keef" & the Cockroaches got a running bet to see who's last left alive and I'm holding their bets so that's not it either...shit!
Waiting, longing, wishing and hoping only work well when you know what it is you're waiting for and when you don't it's just this hole in your gut...a tear that runs down your cheek at night and rolls into your ear...
