I have five minutes to write this. What "this" is, I have literally no idea except that each consecutive sentence will start with the next letter in the alphabet. I want to see how far I will get.

After I finish school, my world becomes open. Baskets have been known to be as open, laying there in wait, ready to be filled with something, they don't care what.  Curious, I look into the basket and wonder. Do I have to fill it with anything? Either I dwell on that fact and sit, motionless and utterly awed by the endless possibility of it, or I go with it. "Flow with the river," my heart says, and I desperately want to listen instead of just hear. Great things have come from great people who have done just that. Had they filled the basket and focused on feeding their body rather than their mind, humanity would have been fucked. I feel my heart beat and with each pulse I am shoved forward. Julius Caesar. Killed by his friends, he died doing what he wanted. Life did not pause for him and he did not pause for it. May I follow in smaller footsteps that nonetheless echo his own free spirit. No blood will I spill, though. Time up.

Save that for the people with baskets that try to carry too much.

This idea is courtesy of David Oliveras' blog.  I try to find exercises like this one on the internet every day and he has made my search shorter and less dependent.

Stone Fog

 

Suddenly we saw a thick fog whose borders were glowing against the sky, blue as the ocean. My mind wandered as I drove towards the mist that had a different quality than any other I had ever been in, because of the before and the after.

The yellow morning light was reflected towards us by hills covered in sun-powered life. We drove to the fog and our imaginations wandered as we stared at the hovering wall, expecting its dark grey color to be solid stone, instead of breathable, suspended moisture.

The seemingly impregnable wall rushed away from our inertia without delay but followed us at wheel-level until we broke the bottom floor of its foundation and the fog became a cloud.

The floor we broke is now a ceiling that cannot keep the rain off of our moving metal blankets.

A hand-picked mix, ironically titled

This is a mix that I have spent the whole rainy morning putting together. It is a snapshot of the types of songs that I listen to when the northwest insists its sequestering weather upon me and I have nowhere to go besides a comfy chair in front of a big window that keeps the water away.

To share this mix I used 8tracks, a really great tool to use if you take pride in your hand-crafted playlists. Making a great "chill" playlist is similar to writing; if done well enough, it can be a way for someone to escape into their own mind and enjoy whatever is around them with their own brain. If this sounds a bit too ethereal and hippy-abstract for you, make some time one day to sit with a good view in front of you, some good music in your ear and a mind open enough to listen and observe.

To let me know what you think of the mix, leave a comment here or on 8tracks!

Lost in My Mind

According to this blog, I haven't written much in the last few weeks. In the description I said that I wanted only the best things that manage to make it out of my brain and through my fingers to the internet. I have been 1) busy with major life adjustments and 2) overly selective with what I think should go up here. To start a bit of a blogging renaissance, here is a song that has been in my head for a few weeks now. This is one of those songs that can pulverize the day's chaos and make it all wait for you. Hope it can do that for everyone.

Lost In My Mind by theheadandtheheart