And I like the evening sounds of all the bugs.
I spend a lot of time here.
No music, no headphones.
Just walking the stone pavers, back and forth back and forth back and forth back and forth back and forth back and forth back and forth.
I’ll do it for hours.
Just thinking.
Scratching a stray cat on its head during little breaks of reality.
I think so much.
(And yet it’s useless)
Because I don’t act..
At least thinking is doing something. You might not be going anywhere but at least you’re not lying down.
(odd point, but fair)
I like thinking.
It is not a desperation, it is a privilege.
A right.
Under all nations.
Above all law.
Thinking is a right.
(and expression is an art form)
And most do it very badly…
(how’s it going?)
dawn 