tired laying back in bed to write this – not the best thing. hoping for the best of all of it, that writing will flow naturally like a day where talk might come out of my mouth eloquently, where it makes sense, where talking out loud is like praying and just to get everything off the mind liberates the soul for the afternoon. I’m not sure what that heavy feeling in my stomach was this morning. something horrible was about to happen, or has already happened, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I probably made a fool out of myself to someone and though I was unable to remember the exact event, the effects lingered with me.
so I have a dark contrast for my desktop and I’m half asleep, about to turn on the radio, hoping there’s no where I’ll have to go this weekend. all obligations turned down low. relax and don’t think about work.
perhaps a day of retreat like Matthew mentions in his journals, a day without talking. reading, praying, writing, eating little… looking over at the cat.
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