Enough about 'blogs'...let's story the shit out of this journal.
I stare at a sideways horse field- sideways saddles, sideways blinders, sideways fences. There is dirt on my temple and my lips taste a little bloody. Seven or so feet away my favorite mug with Jesus Christ's face on the front lies in a dark circle of spilled coffee on the trail. Closing my left eye and then my right, I listen to the mallards and red-winged blackbirds. The sun shines back and forth. I have become obsessed with waves: sound waves, light waves, radio waves...I sometimes imagine seeing them everywhere. They are striking faces,water,cars and birds; they are striking the horse field. The sunshine breaks down into facts about space, and I wonder how long ago that sunbeam- that sun wave- was produced. Tightening the skin on my cheekbone by smiling, I wonder how the wave is effected. I hum an F because that is the only note I know for sure. The note F helps me stay grounded when everything else is spilled or sideways or convolunted with never-ending thoughts about invisible forces. I stop humming and lose sight of all those things.