This is a day to think: dark clouds keep rooms shaded, bird songs creep through screened windows allowing the mood to balance, the Bose spins smooth jazz via saxaphone (though it would be so much richer through the spins of a turntable) and thoughts ramble from the brain and out to the fingers. Thoughts. Not many connections and practically zero direction. Till the rains come. And melancholy melts into itself and brilliance feels oh so close .... elusive, but close.
It's one of those days when I wish I could go back and periodically choose different life paths though I do not regret where or who I am. When thoughts nearly close the doors on creativity because they come so fast, so full that writing or typing can't happen fast enough. And I wish again I had learned to set goals instead of being reactionary to circumstances and situations. Interesting connection.
Is there still time to learn? How to set goals, that is. Perhaps. Unfortunately, time has become the enemy of fulfillment realized, and life pages (on which to turn and write) have become too few.
It's one of those days .... And maybe I'll find words again when the rain stops.