Nothing in Particular

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Do you ever feel the urge to write, but have no idea what on earth you are going to write about? Well, it has been a little bit since I did a blog, and so I decided to start typing and see what happens. I am reminded of a time in high school when one of our teachers explained a bit about a style of writing known as “stream of consciousness.” Basically, in “stream of consciousness,” you write your thoughts as they occur—all randomosity included.

There is something beautiful about doing this. I feel a deep sense of peace. A consciousness of being. A consciousness of repeatedly using the word “consciousness.” A giggle at this seeming overuse. How deeply amusing life is . . .

I am watching a slideshow right now in my family room. Little moments—little glimpses into existence, experience. Growth, yet the same essence. I watch the progression of years. Growth, yet the same essence.

I wonder what Walt Whitman is doing right now?

I wonder if he’s ever met Walt Disney?

I wonder if they’ve ever done a waltz before?

Walt is a fun name. I like the sound of that name. Walt. So funny. So fun. I like “Walt.” It’s a happy name. I feel like dancing thinking about the sound of this name. It’s musical. I want to tap-dance. Walt. Walt—Walt—Walt—Walt—Walt!!! Hahahaha. So fun.

I’d like to give them both hugs. They’re my family, you know. Part of my big human family.

I like humans. They’re funny. They give me giggles. Oh, humans!

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