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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required A coworker once warned me "You'd better have a plan when you retire." I half-joked, I was going to "turn lizard and sleep on a rock and have the most spectacular weeds on the block." Eventually I retired .... without a plan. A rather reckless split-second decision. I'd grown tired of the rats and the piper man. Endless role-playing- shallow shop talk-the mundane tasks. Halls filled with frog-mouthed back jabbers. So, I walked away without a parade. Like I'd done in high school decades before. I tasted the illusion of freedom but was thoroughly clueless. There was also the slow simmer of terror in my brain pan. I retired without a plan. 40 hours/per is a large black hole to placate. Goals are vague, a lounge in the shade of no urgency. I've no sharp desire to tango with a society that's turned frantic and feral. A hyper-rabid froth of mayhem and peril. Time has turned into an amphetamine-popping entity. While space is imploding and fragmenting. My thinking is shallow, condensed without continuity. I retired without a plan. The months are blowing by. Loves die, painting black holes where there once was light. Acquaintances drifting away in nonchalant clusters. I feel little desire to shock the world. I sleep like a drunk infant. Exhaustion is a treasured friend that stayed too long. My hygiene has taken a big hit. There are no company picnics to prim for. I'm waddling around the last bends. Paying hell's rent...a few months in advance. I sleep on a rock bathed in blue light. I retired without a plan, then turned into a lizard man.
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