This is such an empty day aside from the soothing voice and music of knopfler's Ragpicker's dream...there is absolutely nothing to do and yet here i am sitting in my chair refreshing page after page that throws up nothing new on the screen. such days should be declared holidays but they never are so here i am. And the day is rolling along at a slow pace and there's nothing that I want to think about. Sometimes a blank canvas is best. Quiet and serene. White and pure.
Ok now I'm writing just about anything that comes to mind and hoping that either I will delete this or hopefully no one will bother reading this absolute garbage. So I started writing the long project further. Wrote about a paragraph and then stopped. I sometimes think I need a holiday. Really badly actually. I think I will write if i have the free time but on the other hand i might invest my time sleeping. one of my friends recently told me that sleeping in a very healing activity. Now that might actually be true because your skin cells actually rejuvenate when you're asleep. But i couldn't care less even if they do. The best thing about sleep is dreams. Amazing, sometimes story like and at other times profoundly disturbing. dreams are the stuff that good sleep is made of. You get the best kind of complicated dreams if you sleep with music or tv on. The sound seems to stimulate the mind and you see the most fabulously complex images that are beyond your comprehension. The thing is you don't have to comprehend everything. Just experience the emotion. experience the disturbance and stay with it a while if you can. There's more truth about your mind in dreams than there is in your wakefulness. So go. Go to sleep. and dream.