These Days
With apologies to Jackson Browne. Listen to his song “These Days” while reading this.
This is something new for me, where I take the form of something I absolutely love, and work it around and into something that tells a similar story. I hope you enjoy it.
Well, I’ve been walking more these days. That makes it sound like I’ve walked in the past. If you count walking into the liquor store from my car, or walking into the bar and grill from the parking lot, then yes, you could say I’ve walked some. But honestly, ever since I started driving a truck for a living, walking seemed more of thing I forgot to do. As if it was something I promised to do, and then it got lost in the noise of my life.
I did love her. But every day I was away on the road, she slipped farther away. After a while, I would come home; there would be idle chatter about what I saw, and what happened at home, but never enough talk about living. Just talk about existing.
Sometimes we would talk about promises I had made to her. Did I just forget that I wanted to do great things? Or was it the promise itself I couldn’t keep. Some deep broken part of me that wasn’t willing to provide any joy, for you. Or myself.
Looking at my existence now, it’s as if I’m afraid of living the life I wanted. It’s hard to rationalize moving ahead with any plans when I don’t have the faith things will be any different than before. I been losing for so long now I can’t see any different outcome.
Walking for me is the perfect metaphor. It’s a closed loop. You start out thinking you will accomplish something, and then you end up where you started, at the beginning.
But I’ll keep on walking. And hoping that things will improve
One of these days.
Cause all I seem to be doing is counting the time I have left. Watching others living their lives much better than I am living mine. I stand in front of tall buildings, dreamed of and built by better men than me. You don’t have to remind me, I really haven’t forgotten anything.
If you enjoyed this form of writing, share it with a friend, or repost it which juggles the algorithm somewhat, and gets me in front of different people.


Man. “Walking for me is the perfect metaphor. It’s a closed loop.” That one hurt in the plainest way. I just sat there for a second, like yeah, I know that feeling too well.
Another great one, Jack.❤️