Fuzzed

I'm feeling fuzzy. Just had a bus ride back to my neighborhood.

Want to settle down and write today.

Very excited by a book I bought and by the general direction of my reading.

Still need to keep pushing forward. Still feel daunted sometimes.

Still feel aimless most of the time.

I wonder what this business of control is all about.

I was at work the other day behind the counter. Standing inside my little cafe square. I started to wonder if other people felt trapped. I wonder how other people cope with these feelings of confinement.

I wonder about my experiences and what I can do to get beyond them while staying within them. Limit-experiences, Focuault might say. I wonder what he meant by that.

I wonder about a lot of things.

I wonder what I'll have for lunch.

I wonder how my writing will go after I eat.

Because I need to eat before I write.

Curse this need for food. Curse it all.