a single drop falls from the sky and
gathers momentum, gathers strength
seeks a target, finds a target
lands. hmm. that's strange
no impact. no ripple. no wave
nothing
it seems to me that life is primarily an experience. make of that experience what you will
i don't think consciousness is just a collection of neurons. i think it exists outside the physical structures of the brain. the physical structures of the brain give us access to something outside ourselves, outside of this physical reality
rain drums against the windshield.
alone on a drenched forest road,
headlights reaching into the darkness,
he squints, eyes straining ahead.
the rod of light dims, then strengthens.
it turns and bounces closer, slowly,
then picking up speed.
twelve years waiting, preparing.
of course, it would be a night like this.
election day 2024
everyone is seeing and experiencing life through their unique perceptive lens. every single person that has ever lived has experienced a different flavor of life. fascinating
imagine you have two bottles of arsenic. for whatever reason, one bottle is blue and the other is red
click clack goes the keyboard. black text running across the screen, racing from one side of the page to the other. ideas, thoughts, imaginations. electrical impulses leaping from brain to finger tip to page
self-understanding and life path. some find it easily and naturally, early in life. others discover it when life breaks them down, forcing them to stop and evaluate and learn. and others search for it, finding it after decades of wandering, journeying, exploring
perception - what we see as real, possible or likely - is like a game engine. it renders the slice of life we experience. adjust our perception settings, and we open up or close off whole worlds of life experience
the warm kiss of morning sunshine on bare skin. a cool touch, the greeting of a friendly breeze. happy melodies, wind chimes at play. a rush of wind in the trees, leaves dancing on their tethers. a pleasant darkness, gently closed eyelids. thoughts, forming into structure, then melting away. restful. not asleep, but also not fully awake
i think there's probably something before life and something after life. i don't know what it is and i don't really need to know. it is interesting to consider different possibilities, but i'm not chasing certainty. can we allow the before and after to be a mystery??
good girl.
you're doing so well.
ride it slowly.
pause at the top.
there you go.
tease yourself on the tip.
let the pleasure build.
keep building it.
good girl.
you can do this.
you're almost there.
i write in part because it is essential for my creative health. i must get out of my head and produce something daily, even if it's just a few words on a page. creativity has to flow. it has to move from internal inspiration to external expression. creative energy that stays locked in a person's mind or body will slowly kill them
there's a lone piece of macaroni sitting on the stove top this morning. must have escaped the pot last night. it's eyeing me up and down, defiant glint in its eye, taunting me. "come on, clean me up, i dare you." you know what, i think i'll just leave you there
life is writing a book. you're the author. then, you find out you have a co-author who is complete chaos. one day, you wake up and find that your co-author went completely rogue and started an insane new chapter. didn't even check with you, just started writing. have fun, it's up to you to write the rest of the chapter!