I reached for a thought and it slipped quickly through my grasp. I began to look for the next and did not find any more within reach that had a form. I knew the process, half hunting, half fishing, I could only see some of them if I was lucky and the others could only be felt. The tug of the bobber over the empathy pond and the steeled eye over the tree lines. It was my own failure to see the prey, it is everywhere and nowhere but in my mind at the same time. Not here in this mountain pasture, or that seedy city alley. Where to next?

It does feel like that, this bane of existence to create and scribe the days and stories of one’s life. It is as confusing as that third eye that arises out of meditation, where you cannot grasp it, you cannot try to look too close. It is just there, it is just as real as my mind can make it and giving me as many more questions as it does answers. Even though it doesn’t do anything at all. I take that back, it does make me feel something like a force. But that force kind of feels like I am belly bucked by a very obese man in very slow motion, in either sense it isn’t necessarily a pleasant set of inputs.

Meandering, this process where if you have read Stephen King’s Insomnia would understand the concept about stems. In his book the hero is put through the different “worlds” created by the lack of sleep. He saw that people had “stems” going up out of their psyches/souls into infinitum etc… Well here is where I believe similarly, that stem of mine going up into the, whatever ethereal, and meanders over the strings of some Akashic connection. I have no idea what will happen then, it’s a crapshoot for sure, the tides of this common man not wise enough to pull a fish in from the shore at times. Then again every dog has its day, and sometimes they just hop onto the hook.

The prompt was the word meandering, and I guess mine was into a deep well of WTF and it’s Sunday morning. A good time for reflection and writing it down, if only to find it again at some later date while you are meandering through another day of life.

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