Cruising Catalyst

Wrapped in Rapt, Semi-Selfie cozied in The Ludlow, one of her preferred slumbers

Spurred Onward

Open season
hunting
for the dog-eared pages
of unscripted and rip-roaring
tantalizing day
A decadent parade
of possibilities
Nada too shabby
if unexplored
or already adored
Grounded in boundaries
Both kinds (wink-wink)
Cruising catalyst
Replete with captivation
Eventually skipping out
Yet rife in acclaim
Maybe returning to do it again

How can I leave my mark on the world, I thought, unless I get out there first and see it? ~Shoe Dog by Phil Knight

Touring whatever bits of existence that I’ve been able to get to thus far is this endless wardrobe that I never tire of wearing. Each new offering on this planet of earthen extravagance is like a live personality profiling for me. Anywhere I go informs and reforms my grooves. Whenever I’m cranky with one fixation or find myself itching for a stylin n’ profilin’ tempo, I can pick up to pluck sweet threads from a space that’s impressionably unbucketed from my coveted list or I may return to slinking beneath the covers of a well-proven hotelier. Perhaps dialing up my buck naked dozer dalliancing. The choice is always within my making. My mid-thirties divulged this emergence of importance for me. How I couldn’t conceive of wasting more years waiting for some hopeful future date to become an unwavering super-flirt of rounding the globe. Ever since, earnings easily translate to tripping ideas for me.

Let’s really call this writing to order. My name is Braden and I’m an itinerant addict. Nomad equals no madness for me. No missed opportunities to swathe my soul in cliché chichi stays to apartmental denning. No longer pining for an elusive birthday at which I’ll have stored enough cash to grab freedom by the horns and ride her into… what, my cane age?! A rather counterintuitive protocol of unproductive human use. So many suggest I slave until I’m too bony to reap the best rewards from romancing our orb. It’s a ridiculous model that we’ve set ourselves and our kids up to mimic. Time taketh. It’s not of a giving nature. The clock won’t pause merely because we’ve prayed it to do so. No matter how pious you truly are or proclaim to be. Our…