I think its Thursday, for the computer tells me so. I lost July and my new Starbucks super sized Sippy cup. I hate losing things. The fleeting thought of losing some object or another can keep me up indefinitely. If I remember that I have a small green hi bounce ball and can’t find it, I’ll search for hours. It seems I have spent the last 40 years looking for something. Is anyone every just content? I have never been able to sit in stillness and endure quiet. It’s too late to learn to meditate. Maintaining a conscious presents is exhausting. Reason ponder fret. There is really nothing else. In high school I used to listen to my walkman as loud as I could. It would almost drown out the constant criticisms that 17 year olds are plagued with. I can’t seem to regain that skill. The music is never loud enough. The sound is never enough to transport me. I suppose it is all as much self engradizement. I can’t seem to find the center of myself to center myself. I the purple polka dot top carelessly stored in one of a dozen of disintegrating shoe boxes scattered about. Most of the time when you pull the whip string the top sputters, turns quickly rather than spins and skips underneath the table. The whip string is the impetus and the catalyst to motion. With the right wrist motion you can get the top to spin fast and upright. What motion am I missing?
