Sometimes I wonder if the wreck I’m watching is none other than myself. Come on, that’s absurd. Really? No no, I think there are times when each of us is a “wreck”. Or at least there are times when each of us goes through a wreck-like period. Well, it’s not so much a wreck-like period but a period of uncertainty and confusion and doubt and general blah-ness and…or maybe it’s not facing what I should be facing. Maybe I’ve faced it and it keeps facing me back. Can something face you back after you’ve already faced it? These are the kinds of unnecessary philosophical questions that drop in my mind.
I should go play more golf. No, golfing lends to too much time for thinking. That’s all I do, think. And wonder. And ponder. And every other synonym for thinking. Maybe that’s the wreck, the thinking. The thinking is a wreck and I think I can’t do a thing about it. Maybe the thing to do is to stop thinking.
I better go grab a snack and think about it. Peace.
The thought comes. Not yet. The thought goes. Not yet. The thought cries out. Not yet. The thought dries out. Not yet. The thought needs you. Not yet. The thought leads you. Not yet. The thought haunts you. Not yet. The thought taunts you. Not yet. The thought grieves for you. Not yet. The thought leaves you. Not yet. Why? No answers just yet.
(But soon)