I went to the Write It Out group tonight at the library. I find myself there often.
Makes sense given that it’s all free rein reading, books are my favorite past time, and I usually have my nose in at least one.
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I took down all my posts on here a few days ago. I do that fairly often. I’m not totally sure why.
The ideas abound though.
Most of the time,
I feel like the present is a more curious thing.
The past = is the past.
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That is, until it’s Birdanity After Dark when past journal pages become a lingering sad song that comes on before bed.
Ya know… the one that gets stuck in my Spotify playlist and reminds me of a past person I’d rather forget to think about… unless it’s a laughing yoga day.
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I don’t often fully agree with yesterday’s version of me.
Learning something new and meeting new people every day alters my perceptions.
Often.
It’s also a great option to start again, clear my entire playlist, then create an entirely new one.
Positive lyrics or no lyrics at all are making more sense as I age.
So do new songs, posts, and pages.
Besides… there may be no original thoughts. Feels like random flowing words and ideas that seem to get all jumbled together.
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Paragraphs form, then concepts become groups of thought in an effort to make them flow into a person’s normal mind.
My mind… has been proven and medically documented as genetically strange. I’m just happy when I can form paragraphs.
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I’ve come to appreciate handicaps and nearly every form of weird. The people and things that most people fear to approach.
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Maybe there is no normal?
Maybe each sentence is as unique as all our DNA coding?
Maybe we pass our thoughts through our coding?
Maybe I think too much about codes?
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Maybe asterisks make no sense?
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You tell me… I’m on the edge of my seat – which is a bed.
It’s time for bed.
Thanks for reading this latest post of Birdanity (after dark?).
Feel free to comment here, answer or ask random questions, or simply just say hello.
Or really anything you Like.
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Take care.
~ a Bird (in Idaho)
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