Today, I try a twenty-minute stream-of-consciousness exercise: This is just a free write with my eyes wide open but yet glazed over. I don't know what I want to say. I don't know what I want to say it's just going to be full of words and judgements and ideas and pictures in my head. I'll try my best to describe those, but really I all I want to say is fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck life is so complicated and confusing and full of beauty and the smell of chicken is coming in through my door and I really don't like that right now I really don't like that fried crispy smell coming in through the door right now why won't it just go away. If I close my door, the room gets warm and the airflow is only helped by my fan. If I keep the door open, I have to keep smelling this; ah ha maybe i'll get some incense out and use that. maybe I can get some incense burning here in a while, but I am at the computer and this is a timed writing exercise; yes, I am free-writing free-associating just letting it all come out to see what happens and it's weird, it's sort of terrifying because I feel like it's just hey here you go won't you like to here this, or read this? wouldn't you like to read all of this? is this something that is sounding good to you? I don't know. I keep thinking about the daily journal idea; I keep thinking about the morning pages exercise that has left my mind and my hands, I keep thinking that maybe I'll be able to keep the distractions at bay, and I think I've done a worthwhile job, but it can always be better. I can always do better I can always do better I can always do better This is an exercise. I really just want to go back to Yosemite. I just want to be in nature right now. I want my eyes to be looking upward and outward, I want my heart to be in the right place, I really want to listen to it, I really just want to listen to it and hear what it is telling me; that I'm wasting time; that I'm wasting time, that I'm wasting time, that I really want to be doing what I love THE MOST, and that it should be the constant focus of my attention; I want to give myself over to hearing that, honoring that and following that (my heart?) - yes, that is what I'm talking about. My keyboard is getting sweaty, the music is playing softly in the background the sounds outside only consist of the rain and train engines that blare their horns every so often, and sometimes I hear a laugh and sometimes I hear a grunt, and sometimes I hear things from my neighbors that I don't need or want to hear, and sometimes it's just a matter of going, OK, you're having your moment, and they are too, so let them have their moment, but this space is too confined, and too small, and it's also too big, and it's also not enough to know that I've been doing the best I can here, but that I can always be doing better. These computer notifications that pop over on the screen, such as a Tweet - these distractions, these distractions, they matter, but do they? Do they? Does it really matter? I asked people to call me on my birthday to wish me a happy birthday, and there were several friends who DID! And it was awesome, I spent most of my birthday talking on the phone, like I used to do when I was a teenager. I'd just talk on the phone all day, because that's what I would do. Now, it's so easy to not talk on the phone to anybody, it's only a matter of sending a text message, or a post on Facebook, for example, there's all sorts of ways to send messages to people, but I miss hearing the sound of people's voices, when there is a mutual agreement to spend time talking on the phone, which is what no one seems to do anymore. I like that. So I'd say, call me if you want. Call me if you want. Call me if you want, there is so much to say and so much to know and so much to talk about and dream about and talk about doing, why not? Why not? Why not? This day is getting to be pretty nice with the lack of anything to do, there is nothing to do there is nothing to do there is nothing to do, and no I'm not complaining and I'm not upset about it, I think I'm enjoying this moment, because I'm doing what I want, I'm listening to music, I'm typing this out I'm typing this out, I'm dreaming, thinking about ways to connect with people, and think about decisions that need to be made, and some guy is coughing his guts out, he must be above me in the gym room, or something, I don't know. Why do I have to hear guys do the most disgusting things at the gym? Really, like hacking up their phlegm - and not giving a damn about how much noise it makes; or coughing and spitting; or just breathing really hard this doesn't matter in the end, it's a frustrating thing I hear every day, and by the way, let's not forget that you people who go to the gym to work out but sit on the weight bench talking or texting on the phone is not getting you anywhere, and that if you then spend 30 seconds just lifting a weight that is too much for you is a workout, you've got it all wrong, and you're not serving yourself. I try to stay connected to my breath and body when I'm working out, so that means no electronics on my person when I'm doing cardio or weightlifting, so sometimes I do feel like the odd-person out, but thats OK, I'm enjoying it, and I get to stop thinking about dull things I read on the web, and that includes pictures and videos of food, cats, cars, sun, beaches, and more, you know what I mean, so stop using your electronics at the gym, stop using your electronics at the dinner table, stop using your electronics in the god damn movie theater, stop using your electronics at the theater, the LIVE theater, because we go to the theater to listen and observe and to connect ourselves to the stories being told in front of us by a real living person; i was at a show a few weeks ago and a whole family came in late to the play, and took their time taking off their coats and taking their seats, and making general noise, and then half of them took out their phones to send text messages and post things on Facebook, while they were in the presence of the actors and the show - it was rude, annoying, and unbelievably inconsiderate, and if I could've done so, I would've said something right away and ask them to leave or put their shit away, or admonish them with harsh language. Yes, that would've been fun, but no, I sat there quietly fuming, while missing the action and words onstage. It's not the first time, it won't be the last, but why do people think they have to get on their phones when they're in a theater, of all things? So, anyway, this is just what's going through my head, and I'm listening to my music and I'm listening to my head, and I'm listening to the sounds outside, and I'm hearing my heart beat and I'm hearing my breathing though my nose and lips, and I feel all tense and I feel like my head is going to explode, but guess what, the end of this 20-minute exercise is near, and now you get to stop reading this and really take a moment to think about what all of this means: which in the end, is just to say, that this was an exercise, and that there is nothing serious to take from it; just to understand that I can write I can write I can write I can write, and that you taking the time to read all of this, was really a brave and time-consuming thing to do, I know. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you and now go away from your computer and go breathe.