Who am I when the lifestyle has been stripped away?
Who am I
without my lover
without my job
without the net
and the books and
the website and
the name?
Who am I without my community?
Who am I without the doing?
Who am I just with BE*ing?

Children take you right out of that ~
they make no assumptions,
they care not who I am,
but HOW I play.

They are Pleasure Kings and Queens.
While I made overcalculated doodles with chalk on the sidewalk,
a blue eyed buddha child rolled chalk between his fingers, over and over again, grinning wildly at the texture and the feeling.
While I constructed a sandcastle, another explored the sand by pouring it through their hands onto their feet, revelling in the sensation.
I tried it. It felt good.

And even now,
as I write this, I am pulled away by eager children.
We are going to paint in the grass,
and children wait for no writing.

~ journalled a couple of weeks ago