[Morning Freewrite]

Hey hey we're the monkeys!  I feel energixed and alive.  I don't know why.
I just am.  I feel like I could go out and go and do simething useful with
life... Like....

I suppose this could be because I took a walk yesterday.  Not very long or
hard or anything.  I just took a walk.  Is that amazing?  A little tiny bit
of exercise?  Or a little tiny bit of the outdoors.  Whichever, getting
outside makes a whole lot of difference.  There's something about it that I
don't understand.  Something grand.

I am going to have a hard time deciding what I am doing.  Yet an easy time.
I am here going there and I don't know what there is?  Hmmm... To phrase a
different way.  I don't know what I'm doing but I'm on my way.  There's a
feeling that I could do quite a few things.  There's a feeling that quite a
few things are to be done.  There's a feeling that I need quite a few things
in order to get where I'm going to.  There's the feeling that I don't know
what is going on.  I don't know what is going on.  I wish I knew.

There in my mind is a feeling.  A forthright feeling.  Do you know it?  It
makes little sense.  A sense of today and tomorrow.   Things that go and go
and go.  I want out.  Outside.  Out of here.  Out somewhere where I can see
snow.  It is snowing.  Do you know that.  Wet small flakes of snow.  There
is white on top of green grass.  Nothing major yet but it's happening.

I feel like I should get going.  There is so much, so much, so much to
do....  I have the opportunity to go somewhere.  To go and fly from a town
to California.  From California to a wedding.  From a wedding out.  I don't
know.  Oh I don't know.  I don't know what I amm doing.  There's just so
much uncertainty.

What do I need to do?  I need?  I need?  I need?  What might I need?

I see something somewhere.  I see what where?  I look and there's something
somewhere.  I feel.  The soundtrack of my life right now is going through my
head.  Everything is set to music.  Not good music.  But you see it?  The
short gasp of a single musical phrase.  The repitiion.  There was a woman
who wrote what might have been poetry or might have been prose but really
was music.  Repitition.  Repeated phrases.  Over and over.  Sense them.
Turn them.  From all angles.  See.

I want to know who I am.  I want to know where I am coming from.  I want to
know just what this means.  But do I?  Do I? Do?  There's so much contained
in the mystery as well.  Is that the joy I take from life right now?  The
sublime joy and the mundane joy?  How to differentiate these two?  The joy
that transcends when one can hold it all in one's mind versus the joy that
comes from living as a beast in the mud.  Thee is joy in both.
Transcendence in one.  Or both?  Is there something transcendent in the act
of living unconsciously?  Or only when you live consciously?  When you live
and know that you live aqnd even if wwhat you do is mundane you are still
living?

[End Morning Freewrite]