nothing but an update.

Moments like these remind me of childhood and the aggravation of mid-Saturday afternoon whinings of "what should I do" to my mother. Invariably her response was to suggest that I clean my room which always drove me outdoors or into books or anywhere other than towards the process of cleaning. These days, with cleaning my room and the apartment and doing typical chores being the types of things that I do not mind doing so much anymore, I find myself starved for things to rally myself against.

Perhaps it has been too loud in this house lately and the sudden silence is more than a little overwhelming. I have bought some gym clothes and finished a book and fixed some dinner-lunch and for some reason I find myself at a loss for what to do. Perhaps this is the answer. Perhaps writing is the solution these dull hours and I have just been wasting away avoiding it.

Everything feels rather plain right now. No particular miseries or joys. A simple sense of being. Some floating thing held up by its own buoyancy in a placid lake.

There is a sky above us and it is a welcome grey after too many days of ultra-light. The cold wind blowing into the room in our night time hours and the lamp posts acting as the stars I can't see past the clouds. In the morning through my open windows the constant whirrrrrr of automobiles and the scarcely audible conversations of passersby. The dogs clacking their nails down the sidewalk and the skateboard kids falling down again. A cold wind ushering in our open eyes. Reminding us of something we can hardly touch anymore.

The book? Oh, it wasn't that great.