  Ok, I have a semblance of fluidity tonight. I'm putting off my long cold bike ride by writing... Ahoy (originally ahoy was ahhh, but then the spell check changed it, and I realized how wonderful it is) the many uses of literacy.
Today I rode to school, and it was all rather joyous. I was over my hangover and well rested. Are you waiting for the conflict? The part that makes the story? Well, there really is none. I rode past birds, and in about thirty seconds of listening hard I heard five or six different songs. I rode past a burger king box that was moving slightly in the wind so that it looked like a scorpion. Right after that I rode past a pair of legs that I think belonged to some kind of space toy. Then I kept riding and was actually early for my work out with Dylan.
So, there we go. No conflict in my day. But we need conflict to move the plot along, don't we? In order for me to grow, and evolve I need some suspense and a little something dirty, a moment of danger, and then a glorious resolution. If I am to take the lead role... So I made my own. Conflict that is. Not in a very dramatic way. It was a quiet personal struggle that involved the demons of academia and some really tough theory.
I believe I won though, well kinda. Maybe the battle, not the war. I say this because I felt my heart rate go up, my eyes glazed with cool gleam, with the intensity of connections burning into my soul and ideas that are so radical, so intense. I want to scream at them, "ARE YOU LISTENING?? THE WORLD IS SO DELICATE AND CONSTRUCTED. WE ARE NOT REAL. " But really, I doubt it would have been appropriate. I mean, I know that we aren't real, I know that the world is a construct and a delicate balance of consensus...
But I don't know if everyone does. I am just aghast at the way it comes back over and over and over and over. Repeat please. Yes. Now, I am working of breaking out of the construct, understanding it on all levels, finding loop holes in the whole of it. I'll be late, but really, just late for a more blatant construction, a game of more clear intensions.
I watched light today, as it reflected breathing off of many things. There was a line in a reading that made my breath catch, and I wish I had written it... "She said she would have liked to rest on the grass of his chest. " and another, "The worst was that he felt ridiculous from the moment that the greatest dream was emerging from the depths of his being. " May you have a great dream tonight love, sleep into it, sigh and seep, and wake knowing nothing... 
