Im tired, but who isn’t? I reckon a lot of people aren’t actually. People like to relate to eachother, but for once when I say wow im tired id like the other person to say “well i feel fantastic and refreshed and am excited for the day”. Im sure there are those who awaken refreshed and clear headed, ready to nip out the door to work or to work-out. Singing in the shower, or going for a jog. Meeting a friend for a coffee, sitting out in the crisp winter air smoking a cigarette, or attending an early morning meeting in a ceder wood board room, feeling the power of the mighty empire theyve built around them. Golfing out on some misty green pasture somewhere, because thats what they like to do in the morning, taking in the fresh chilly air as they drive one to number 9 with half to go on their rota before a lovely spa or a wonderful breakfast. Sometimes I can smell smells that make no sense, like the overwhelming smell of horse stables, (dust and shit really) and while I know once upon a time that smell made sense, when it comes to me at random, I feel lost and confused. I wonder if the guy golfing remembers the smell of the mist beaded grass and the pines, and when he does, does he feel anything, remember anything? Okay not going to go poetic and philosophical this morning. Just a thought.
Appointment with social services today to discuss some upcoming benefits. But im so tired, not sure if ill piss about trying to wake myself up and then dissociate and miss it. I can only hope not. Fell asleep reading Meditations last night, (Marcus Aurelius). I always feel out of place reading philosophy, but its the “something inside me” that keeps me reading. Im not searching for anything in my simple life really, just for some kind of stable day to day existence. Since my short term memory seems as shot as my long term memory, when I read its like hearing a beautiful symphony that you can only haphazardly hum a few notes of later to a friend. Thats basically my lifetime recall. Its hard to explain, but Ill get there, as I try to keep up writing to strangers on the internet. As I read the words they fade away as fast as my eyes seem them and my recall seems to be, after going to book 3, about 2 words. I feel the words though, inside. Lingering emotions with no explanation.
While im feeling quite philosophical, one of mes’ feeling quite moody and broody. Well good morning, the wolf is at your door.