I feel like sitting down with an inkpot and quill, writing by the light of a candle. Instead, here I am on this box that manages to drain an extra hour out of me every time I go on it. Go figure.
I need some reflection time. It’s necessary to developing self-identity. I sound like I’m an attention-seeker or a know-it-all poser. Despite this, I have forgotten who I am, and more importantly, who I want to be. I dearly wish that there was a meadow somewhere with a shady tree I could lean against. I would sit there with a notebook and a pen, and I would write all day long. However, lacking the meadow, tree and inspiration, I’ll just settle for not talking for a little while. Maybe I’ll learn something. Anti-talk time starts tomorrow morning. The less I talk, the more I listen. Always important when defining morals, as we learned in RE today. At least, I’m pretty sure I"m the only one in class who was working.
I’m digressing. All right. I will take a break and re-evaluate myself. I’m sure by morning I’ll have come up with answers. I need a weekend to fill with stories.
PS: I still wonder what it’s like to be blind. It sounds like something I would enjoy.
With love, always and endlessly,