Water gently pats my raft along.. not wet enough to be uncomfortable, not dry enough to be content.. lying on my back, as I usually am.. I do not see where I am going.. looking up into the sky.. I see such grand images.. I see birds .. flying.. I wish I could fly.. how do I reach the sky? As long as I look at the sky, my fate will be determined by the gentle and not so gentle pats.. I think I have an oar.. maybe I should start using it.. so one day I can fly.. one step at a time and I shall reach the hills of kitty hawk..

I have returned from an 11 day journey of mind and body.. am i wise enough to know if im wiser, probably not.. the walls in my room are looking a bit green tonight.. teetering on the edge of aqua .. school is starting on monday.. still have yet to decide if this is a good or bad thing.. where am i going to find the discipline to actually sit, listen .. and learn. The orange traffic cone is screaming to be washed.