then I wonder
Jul. 6th, 2002 12:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lantairvleaWhy am I suddenly so tired and bored of this? This thing. This hunk of machinery. I suppose it's not really boredom, but is it a hunger, a want, a need for something more, something better than whatever dull pleasures the glowing screen can give my eyes and ears. I want to taste, I want to feel, I want to touch. Even as I type this I'm not even bothering to look at the screen, or my hands. I just stare, dtare downwards at my legs and feet. The chair that I'm perched ever so carefully upon. The desk that my arms rest on.
Who cares. I don't. It seems like I need a break from the web , though I have been taking ont the past month, haven't I?
Just the same. I should gt out more. i'm becoming restless. If I continue in this restless state I'm bound to become irritable and unpleasant. So many things have been found the past month, I really don't want to loose it. If I lost it . . . . what would it have been worth?
No more procrastinating, no more excuses. No more hiding behind personal shields. Even the nes I'm unaware of, they must be cought and destroyed. Hated things, these restrictions, these personal gudelines that i've placed upon myself for no real reason. They had no real reason, didn't they? it just happneed.
Now what is going on, I'm typing, the music plays, the fingers of my two hands dance their gravefully swift dance across the keyboard, not seeming to miss a step as I think, think. What is thinking then
I don't suppose many people truely thingk. A fair amount pick at things, calculations, observations. Knowledge, it's so illusive. My mind, it wanders.
Who cares. I don't. It seems like I need a break from the web , though I have been taking ont the past month, haven't I?
Just the same. I should gt out more. i'm becoming restless. If I continue in this restless state I'm bound to become irritable and unpleasant. So many things have been found the past month, I really don't want to loose it. If I lost it . . . . what would it have been worth?
No more procrastinating, no more excuses. No more hiding behind personal shields. Even the nes I'm unaware of, they must be cought and destroyed. Hated things, these restrictions, these personal gudelines that i've placed upon myself for no real reason. They had no real reason, didn't they? it just happneed.
Now what is going on, I'm typing, the music plays, the fingers of my two hands dance their gravefully swift dance across the keyboard, not seeming to miss a step as I think, think. What is thinking then
I don't suppose many people truely thingk. A fair amount pick at things, calculations, observations. Knowledge, it's so illusive. My mind, it wanders.
