Right now as I type these words onto a burn eye screen (that I will only allow myself to spend 5 minutes in front of), men with almond eyes scoop concrete, a stray female dog - sucked and screwed to exhaustion - barks, a shirtless man whistles, a dusty fan hums, a wee bird native to Ohio chirps, Afro-Caribbean kids scream victory, a hammer pounds, open toed shoes scuff, seashell wind-chimes chime, banana leaves flutter, sea waves bounce over docks, black lizards crawl, long eyelashes bat and pinkish lungs heave giant breaths. Day number 2, Bocas Del Toro, Panama.
wasn't who I was
If I wasn't who I was, I would probably be one or two of these things below: an astronaut
a farmer
a motorcycle builder
a bee keeper
an opera singer
a dominatrix
a fish store owner
a flower arranger
a rodeo queen
a pencil sharpener
a ringleader
an acrobat
an olympian pig pong player
a dog walker
a bed maker
a rain collector
a secret holder
a plant
a bear
a weave
a train's choo choo
a willow bark
a wombat
a glass of water
a pile of sunshine
Sometimes the ears need a little waking up. Which is why you should LISTEN TO THIS.