How differently every day starts and ends. What does a day think when it begins? Does it think of being nice, being evil or just in its droll way, deal out a fair share?
So what do I have at the end of the day? Just a whole pile of unfinished work. A million unfinished conversations. A thousand held-back thoughts. And some more silly fancies to kill in my sleep and wake up chiding myself for being such a fool!
Why? Where have those delectably long days gone where I could decide what course it would take? Where an idle hour of blissful lonely walking could well be tucked in along with all the movies and oh.. the pile of books!
Why has this silly old computer suddenly become more important than anything? And why has it become the tool of communication, business, work and even such pleasurable acts like writing?
Oh! Once more a million questions confront.
And like I said, so does the end of the day.
I have no idea why I'm blogging so much. Too much creativity oozing through. Too much computer time, desperate need for distraction.