What happened? What brought me here? Did someone give me tenure? I never even submitted a portfolio. So strange

I am walking in some sort of shell. The roar of traffic patterns. So comforting. The most comforting roar imaginable. Other than the sea.

I don’t really think I deserve tenure. The Review Committee must have been asleep. Or on mushrooms. But didn’t deserve it.

Mediocrity has caught up with me and there’s no hiding it. Except from the Review Committee. I no longer care what I won’t become, but that doesn’t lead me to accept what I am.

So what does one do in this state of mediocrity. Settle? The thought of settling makes me cringe. But it’s my unsettledness that brought me here. So strange.

I guess I have to stick around and at least find my way to a place of compromised comfort. that is more borderline settling than settling. I guess it’s more of a place to float.

And what could be better than floating? In the sea. Exchanging pleasantries with the waves in the aquamarine sea.

Something is reflecting the dim light. It might be the waves. It might be. the thing I became while I wasn’t floating. The light is dimming, but the bulb still has some life in it.

Shame almost annihilated everything in its path. It dug a deep deep hole and I almost fell into it. But I managed to sidestep it. I should be proud of this. I AM proud of this.

I gathered myself to stare the smokey vehicles otherwise known as the clouds.

Each cloud has a story to tell. One cloud speaks obtusely. Something about the transgressions it committed in the coachhouse of the lord. Or at least that’s what it sounded like. I could be wrong.

Another cloud speaks of yearning for someone or something intangible. I think the cloud mentioned the name Shonaugh, but I may have misheard. Maybe that’s just the name I wanted it to hear.

I shouldn’t be listening in. It’s not my place.

The must think of me as a shadow person. Not quite invisible enough to completely disappear.