My daily constitutional. Accompanied by beautiful music, no less. It’s nice being trapped in this body and brain. All alone, trapped. That’s why God is such a trap. I don’t need to pretend I’m not alone in here. Why muddy it up? Things are already such trouble in here. You see, here? I’m trying to free myself up with this blog. I’m trying to express the inexpressible. The difficult-to-express.

Is breathing a way to express things? Can I substitute anything? But why? I can just sit here and write until the day I die. That was why I implemented this forum in the first place. A different sort of place to exist. I don’t remember exactly, but I think it was my own idea. Ha.

Don’t hover. Trust. You have to trust. He knows what he’s doing. He’s himself. There’s nothing inherently wrong with youth. Trust. Breathe. Be a yogi. Maybe yogis exist in this place, this blog place. Is that why Z writes so copiously? Does she get the same release out of it? Is being a child better than being an adult? Maybe it depends on the circumstance. But what if you put the circumstance aside? Aren’t there supposed to be advantages to being an adult? Andrew once told me he didn’t subscribe to a great deal of adulthood. Maybe the idea is that adults and children are supposed to help each other as they go. Children maybe don’t have to do anything specific to help adults, just be their cute, vivacious selves. Adults on the other hand do have to wake up from their adultish mindset and take a chance on their child companions.

I don’t know if I want others to see this. It’s not exactly for human eyes. It’s for the ether. Humans may eavesdrop on it if they like. Is that like my concerto performance? People eavesdropped, but weren’t the main focus of it. If you don’t perform for people, you’re better off, less self conscious and self serving. I shouldn’t feel guilty for writing here.