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22:36 - Thursday, Sept. 12, 2002 Ever want to just roll into yourself? In the top right corner of some big piece of notebook paper of me? Origami intricate but just so damn folded up and quiet and tightly held together. No work, no plan, no schedule. Just a hug of a self, again just up in that upper right corner of me, of the me's I am from moment to moment at work and play and home. It's not avoidance. Yeah it's some cracked up Tori Amos-coated quiet hide and no seek space. It is not really blank but absent of everything but fold and hug. That is the place where I think I could really sleep. To get to the quiet mind. To get to a post-yoga brainhaze without the limbpretzel stretch-o-matic pilates twist and sweatflex. It is ADD/ADHD free and Terence Trent D'arby's "Wishing Well" plays softly there with soft marimbas and occasionally an acoustic Velvet Underground song. This is the space I want to fold into now. It is caffeine free. Tabula Rasa. And the place of a new beginning. It is anti-progress and motion for motion's sake. It is efficiently fueled on its own itness. And I just want to visit. If only for a few minutes. Just to know that space is real and is a home of me.
"It's a traffic jam of the brain/Makes you want to scream and shout." --Sly Fox "Let's go All the Way"
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