me, knowledge need, pages and pages
all interpretation and meditations leaning toward more. More exploration, more scenes, more looking around and acknowledging Now. Nothing behind, all ahead and in front of me asking to be experienced. What am I doing here, accepting any order, any regulatory, any institution. More, on that Road, the music, lights, cars, families traveling in winter or whenever. Sitting on unfamiliar boards, me…
to be in the Road.
In this.
Her.
Where I be.
“embrace my inner child” like so many will suggest you do.
Trying to be more like them. Emulate their qualities and speak with their intense freedom.
do little.
Gather energy for the bigger projects.
Those grand efforts that will get you There.
Write your context, surroundings, scene and stage.
So I open the bottle of Monterey Grenache I bought at Bottle Barn a bit ago. Not letting it sour or soil the soul of this sequence of time I have to Self. First sip, and I’m spoken to by subtlety’s illustrative principles.
It’s still not speaking to me, doing what it’s supposed to do. This it. An it. Not capitalizing, not surrounding in any quote marks, even the singular. It’s a thing. A monster. A devil. Guess I have to buy a new laptop.
Got through small stack of papers.
This semester and I are now officially feuding. I will be sure there is not a single paper to evaluate.
All papers, graded when handed in.
My assault plan is to halt all before there is any assault, on either end.
Wake earlier. 4am, or face failure.
Sunday will be the grading day for me. Learning learning. More knowledge, more knowledge on knowledge itself.
Week 9…. oh week 9. Today’s lecture, on semester consideration. Noting your progress. I’m doing the exact.