Ponderance

At the moment, the three residents of the farm are all dealing with the same thing.
The integration of our free spirits into working life.
How we can survive in a world where most of the population takes for granted the need to work every day in order to buy houses and have children.

Basically, we all want to stay away from offices forever.
They kill our souls and we'd rather be dead than ever have to pretend we care again.

We've spent so long drifting, not making any money, existing without obligation, in a world of exchange.  Now we're readjusting to a commitment of sorts through living and working at the farm.  Trying to fit expanding, wispy selves back into some kind of structure.

Always a part of us remains aware of the other world. Somewhere out there exist constraints.
I realise this as my dad writes to me to tell me my bank is calling him, wanting a payment.
It signals the end of my savings.
Reality crashes in.

I am not scared, but I know this means change, and decisions.
I try not to feel frustration and trust that this is merely a tool to take me to new things.

Life is nothing without perception. At least I have my hands.

It is hard to believe they are mine.
I see them covered in marks and I cannot remember where they came from.
What is 'mine' other than just a word to describe something that is in my life for a while?
And what is life other than simply a challenge to understand what is actually mine, really mine, for a bit longer than a while?

I feel like I've spent quite a while already trying to understand that thing I call 'mine'.
I could say I have a better picture, now.  I could probably continue though.

But fact is, I'm pondering and wandering in a world that requires little pieces of paper in exchange for things I need.
So now, on the list of things I need, I've added 'little pieces of paper' in the hope that some will blow over to me soon.

Much as I'm contemplating how to fit my drifting self into the 'real' world in order to make money, I really don't want to go back.
I don't need much money, really, if it's just me.

A child is strange and faraway. But I know how much I change.
I wouldn't be surprised if the Julia I become in a few years is really quite keen on the things.
And where would a child fit in this world?

Sometimes when I write down a ponderance of mine I come out with an answer.
And sometimes I don't.