No bother if life takes forever.

It’s far more important that my Italian true love learns to live at my pace. Rather than me having to live at her pace. I’m much slower. At virtually everything. She’s too fast-paced. Doesn’t take enough time to savor the rudimentary things of life. Of course, that’s merely my opinion. And I could be wrong. But I doubt it. Today, she’s been after me. To hurry up. We have to go somewhere. Don’t know exactly where. But shouldn’t matter. Because I’m busy writing. I’m on a creative spurt. And I’ve gotta let it spurt. At whatever becomes the natural flow. I am not to be interrupted. Think she got the message. Because she just trotted off to the post office. Without me. I don’t live on a preordained schedule. I go with the flow. Which often is a trickle. I take an hour or two to eat supper. Sitting across from my true love, who might well be done in 10 minutes. For me, that would be a sign of indigestion. I am in no hurry to get through life. I want it all to last. Won’t bother me if life takes forever. –Jim Broede