i need to free write more often

2003-09-27, 12:45 a.m.

i jsut realized that i had not done a free write excercise since 8th grade, so i think ill do one now, for 15 mintues.

how does the mind, with all its thoughts, instantaneous decisions of chemical reactions, and nervous responses, have time to wonder if i am dead or alive. the quick answer would be that of course i am alive, the afor mentioned duites of the brain would tell me that i am alive. however, the state of dreaming is so close to death (at least in my opinion) that i could argue for all of us being unsure to our visceral state. i dont want to sound like i am depressed, on the contrary, these are some of the ideas that amuse my brain to a giddy child-like level. to think about them would not change who i am, nor would it make me any more dead; certainly it could make me more alive.

yes, to close your eyes, to feel one snow flake falling onto a frozen pond, you remember a frozen Lake Tahoe. you remember what the ice felt like under your boots, 6 years old and you could already feel imminent life in crystallized water. watching the cracks like veins, pulsating with blue energy, arduous temperature, biting cold. then you wondered what the center of the lak must look like; just like the center of the universe, which had been the middle of a balloon. that white washed mountain side, speckled green, sang some long lost hym, i swear it was there, and i could hear it.

now, i have to remind myself when i read papers, i have to tell myself what i wrote months ago. the audience is shrinking but the words, that meditative state of ink on paper, symbols on a template, remaining free of decay (there is no half life to the electron or the ink, only to the reader and the paper). galaxies don't care what care you drive, how big your house is. balck holes will laugh as they watch you slip into nothingness. that would be for the person who controls the world, if indeed he believes he does. that is for the green money which drives a machine, pounding out analog emotions of despair and repression.

TIME!