Fixing stuff, myself included…
Omnipotence
Writing every morning is becoming a habit; I am intrigued by the very nature of the obsessive control an unconscious habit asserts. In the seemingly benign length of my shadow stretching across bottom of the pool, I am captivated by the sudden rippling of wind incrementally shifting my image first left and then right; the wind, a photoshop filter imposed where the only undo is to wait. However, the local weather service has issued a warning: Northeaster bearing down rapidly. All islanders should baton down the hatches. Storms pass over, we can’t stop or reverse them; the only undo is to wait.
Are you still talking about writing?
Only in so far as writing is a habit, I’m talking about habits in general, both good ones and bad ones. The habits that once they’ve taken hold are like rust on iron and no steelwool in sight. The ones that become part of you in such a way, that you are them and they you, rather like Alice to the rabbit?
Alice to the rabbit?
Grab on to the seat railing in front of you, and hang on, cause we’re going for a ride. That’s right it’s a bus and even though you don’t usually take public transportation, you have nevertheless found your self riding one from here to there. So it’s still raining, actually still pouring outside the bus window; you find yourself relatively safe and warm on the inside of the bus. However, the bus is full of strangers. You know absolutely no one else on the bus, although the driver for some reason looks familiar, but that familiarity is a fleeting thought, and passes quickly from your conscious mind. Now, what was it that the rabbit said to Alice before she fell down the rabbit hole? You don’t know? Well I’m sorry. Then we’ll just have to ask the psychologist about that.
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