6:31am woke up and went for a walk on a steep hill. Parked in the same spot I did two weeks ago but walked down to the trail head. I couldn’t tell if it was completely closed or opened to pedestrians. I decided to just keep walking down the sidewalk. The hill is incredibly steep. The walk back up taxed my legs, heart and lungs. That is good. I need more cardio.
A lot of thoughts in my head. Nothing deep or profound. I need to keep my time occupied so I don’t slip into bad habits. I can’t control things so I just stress myself trying.
Last night when I was falling asleep I thought about thinking. I “think” in words. But I don’t see them. I don’t hear them. I experience them through a sense beyond any of the five senses. Am I producing those words? They are what I am typing now. Words are coming from someplace inside me. I am producing a record of them. It is fragmented. Incomplete. But that is what the past 100+ days have been about. Working under the assumption the “word source” needs to be mined for content. That it needs to be pulled into the world and translated in a way that other people can experience it through the known sense of seeing or hearing. That they can feel something because they experienced these words. That perhaps it stirs something in them to mine their own word source. And they are compelled to share.
mikemeyer949 