It is dark.

Yes. It is dark. Daylight savings time is now in effect and I’m riding on a dark bus again and listening to Lemon Jelly. I don’t care really. The light will ebb back into the morning and I’ll hear birds and the like. I hope.
I need the sun. Direct sun. Though I’ve lived in shade most my life. I still need it. Well, “need” is a strong word, I guess. I “desire” it. I “want” it.
Until it returns, the sun, I sit riding the bus. My knees are propped up on the seat in front of me and I’m listening, as I said, to Lemon Jelly. It is good.

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Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

Right now I am reading “Brave New World” by Aldous Huxley. I’m really enjoying it. I recently finished reading “The Stranger” by Albert Camus and “1984” by George Orwell. Orwell was a student of Huxley. I didn’t realize this until after I started reading it. “1984” is one of my favorite books, even though it is somewhat depressing. “The Stranger” was first introduced to me by the song “Killing an Arab” by the Cure (long live Robert Smith).

“Brave New World” is a fantastic book and I have a hard time believing it was written in 1932. I have an affinity for old science fiction. I’ve also read a story call “The Machine Stops” which is very good. It always amazes me to read stories from such a long time ago that reasonate so strongly with the current times.

Next I plan on reading “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” and then “Lord of the Flies”. But I am considering re-reading “Hiroshima” again. I can’t stop thinking about Japan.

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This is how I feel…

I don’t know. Its just how I feel right now. Not for any particular reason. I just do. Probably because the cats are out of food and at home by themselves. Makes me feel bad. Kinda.

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Worms on the road

I like Sunday mornings. I like them better when they are sunny. And its not the first day of daylight savings time. It really throws me off. Its all good though, I guess.
The birds are starting to sing at sunrise. The robins are doing their morning song. I’m surprised that there are a bunch of them eating the worms on the road right now; there are a ton of them.
It rained a lot last night and the worms are migrating across the road. I don’t know why they do that. Sometimes I feel like a worm after the rain. Sometimes I feel like I’m crawling somewhere and I’m not sure to where or why. Maybe the worms know better than I. I’m not sure. They probably do.
Everything around me is so beautiful, when you really think about it. I don’t often notice it though. I try to, but, I guess, if you have to try then its not really them same as just feeling it. Sure, some might say its something you can learn. That’s fine and all, but I think its probably better to have some kind of innate appreciation for good and beauty.
I just finished reading “The Stranger”. I worry that I’m a stranger sometimes. I do lack some morals and some ethics. I don’t know.
Tonight I shall put on a mask for a ball and it will feel totally natural.

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Like drops of rain…

The first time is always the hardest. Usually it is, anyway. For me, it always is.
I’m waiting. Waiting for thoughts to fill this void, just like I wait for images to fill my thoughts so they can fill the paper. There is always this feeling that something great is right there, but just not formed into anything substantial. Time ticks by and occasionally an idea of interest will emerge. Sometimes I just have to start and it comes. Its that initial start I have a hard time with. That and self censorship.
There are times when it is easier to formulate something and feel a bit of enthusiasm for the process. This is not one of those times for me. I’m flailing. Its all a matter of perception, I guess.
Recently I was watching a raindrop on the window of a bus shelter. The wind was blowing and the drops were edging across the window like paramecium. And that made me wonder if these drops were still “drop”. They were water and made little spots on the glaze, but I’m not sure they were drops. And if they had their own consciousness, would they think of themselves as drops still? Did they ever? Were they drops long enough to consider themselves as drops? I don’t know and I guess I don’t really care.
My thoughts are like those drops. I’m not sure if they’re much self-aware. And I’m not sure I really care that much either. But I want to keep seeing them do something.

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