This is one of those times when I start to forget what I'm doing and get lost in my multiple random dreams. I had one last night that I was swimming from one island to another and a massive seaweed bed floated up, wrapped it's slimyness around me and pulled me under. I woke up like i barely made the surface. Having some sort of destination is unfamiliar to me. It's like being on the interstate and the only thing to look at is empty fields, housing developments, and random towns that are apparently only there to service and feed the people passing through. No one stops to ask why they are there. I'm drifting from the metaphor. But the desire to find out where that country road might lead is still very strong in me. It might be something, it might not, and most often you just end up going back to where you started anyway just a little farther down the road.
I wonder what's the optimum way to get what I want. Sometimes I think that what I really want does not exist, and can not exist. But they said we'd never have a black president. Suckers. My dream to sail is strong. I don't know which will be more difficult; getting to the shore, or stepping off the dock. Will 'leaving it all behind' actually work for me? Historically, I spend most of my time trying to leave a place and then the rest of the time wondering why. I'm a cliff-notes version of half finished phrases. There is no certainty in my life. Like water I conform to the vessel that holds me. Usually I'm a puddle looking for the sun to evaporate me and rain me down in some other town, where once again I will collect in gutters and parking lots finding no roots to nourish.
If I woke up floating in the ocean I would start swimming. I would not wait, not hoping, no land in sight, but I would move. What is the reason in that?