Tonight I write to you on my couch, or to be more precise, my friend’s couch. A turquoise colored tank top accompanies my short, black flouncy skirt. My legs are bare and stretched out in front of me, ankles crossed.  I notice my normally white-ass legs are lightly browned now from running a couple miles outside each morning. My laptop, well she’s in my lap, and her under-belly is warming the tops of my thighs. Over the top of my mini-screen I can see the pink polish on my toes. I can also see the tri-silver hoops of my toe rings and they sparkle as the lamp over my left shoulder highlights them. My upper back is propped up against a pillow, a golden-hued pillow, like the moon.

I suppose I’m writing about writing from the couch because I’ve confined myself to sitting at a desk, or the kitchen table working on projects lately. I’m trying to stay focused and for some reason, a straight back chair and table for my mini-top seems to put me in the focused frame of mind.  But tonight, it feels really good writing from this couch.

I’ve been around the block and then some over the past few months and I’m starting to figure things out. My inner compass has been consistently pointing  me in the same direction. Sometimes life throws you a curve, making it very difficult to keep both eyes on the ball.  I’m reminding myself and maybe you too not to worry about the man that lurks behind the curtain, the pink, polka-dotted elephant standing in the living room, or a search engine request asking if vegan girls swallow - because like truth, focus finds its way.

Focused, Vegan and Swallowing -
Neve Black