Foggy mind

I went for a walk in the afternoon. It seemed like it rained most of the day. Reading, writing, listening to the stillness of rain drops on the rooftop. Cabin fever.

I have been feeling trapped lately. Sometimes I feel like I truly don't have an idea of where to turn anymore. It's an unnerving feeling to feel so alone, surety swept from underneath your feet and who is really there? So far in this life only my family and a few close friends fit that bill and there is no-one like that out here in the wilds. So I went walking over the hills through the rain alone. I connect more with the land than anything else most of the time. It is stable and dependable, not some flaky paradox bound to crumble hopes and confound logic. There are some days like this I beg for transport out of my own relentless mind. Brooding furious thoughts like a slow sinuous stream of lava incinerating all before it. My soul like a barren smoking wasteland. A metaphor for my thought process perhaps and maybe there needs to be a clean slate. A colonization of this bare rocky cerebral surface with new ideas and new directions.

Still steaming. Waiting for the smoke to clear so I can see again but I'm planning out the journey ahead already....