I suppose there are few things more scary than being dropped into the deep end of a swimming pool when you don’t know how to swim. And the primal thoughts force your legs and arms out but you cant seem to stay afloat. And you kick and you thrash your hands but all that happens is that you get water up your nose. And the water forces down your wind pipe and you cough and you sputter and you thrash around some more. But you are just not able to stay afloat.
Someone once told me (and this is a story which has fascinated me no end) that sound never dies but just travels around the world. And there are these random places in the world where the runaway sounds meet and converge and form this unique sound which no one shall ever hear again.
Fuckin brilliant me thinks.
I like my steak medium rare. Little pink in the inside. So that when I bite I get a nice, charcoal-grilled bite but then when I start chewing the meat, the nice tender, soft pink pieces put that yummy, meaty, juicy taste in my mouth.
You may know what I am talking about. You may not.
I suppose that thoughts are like people. Or perhaps like ghosts. I wonder if more than one person can have the same thought. Actually I am pretty sure they can. I wonder if there is some graveyard for thoughts. Or perhaps they just grow weaker and weaker and then just fade away into nothingness. Like ideas. Which seem so strong in the beginning but then begin to stumble and fall and then change into something else.
I should really start reading again. Nowadays it just feels like I can barely read a couple of dozen pages. It is a bit odd actually.
I hope you are fine and I hope you are warm because I am so far away that I can do nothing but breathe in the air and imagine the way you smelt.