Letting the days go by
I've been wondering today: when did I decide that I had to be the one to do absolutely everything? Why do I have to do every experiment that occurs to me. Why do I have to write every article? Why is it so important that I have a chance to write another book? Is this all really about the fear of death? Or is it about something else?
No clue.
Life is just too difficult to understand. I want to be everywhere, think everything, taste everything, say everything, sleep with everyone, experience every sensation. None of this makes much sense, nor is it doing me much good.
I want everything to stop. Just even for 15 minutes. I want to stand under old hemlock trees again. I want to go to Mali.
No clue.
Life is just too difficult to understand. I want to be everywhere, think everything, taste everything, say everything, sleep with everyone, experience every sensation. None of this makes much sense, nor is it doing me much good.
I want everything to stop. Just even for 15 minutes. I want to stand under old hemlock trees again. I want to go to Mali.
posted by Colin at 11:01 PM
1 Comments:
I'm sorry I've been absent.
It seems you're answering every question you ask, yet don't know it.
You need to go to Mali, and back to the sea where I first 'met' you and back, and back and back....
I suppose I recognize what you keep saying because it's all too familiar.
Look over your past writing. See where it takes you.
It's not your age talking.
(Thanks for lurking....)
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