home/entries/2024-06-10 "Cumulonimbus"

2024-06-10 "Cumulonimbus" 03:54 UTC

Hey, hey. I don't usually expect to make blog posts back to back, but I wanted to write. I went on that hike today like I said I would. It was really nice, airy. The only frustrating thing about hikes is that I can't stop to examine every bug and every flower. Plus with the dissociation, I feel like I can't really appreciate what I'm looking at to my?? full potential. I wanted to stop and stare at each and every beautiful thing I saw. Which would've been nearly everything, and I eventually stopped feeling the need to really, just because 1. I was tired and 2. passing by all of it made each new one mundane. I often find myself taking tons and tons of photos at the beginning of hikes, before a sharp decline when I start actually expending energy hiking. Just too hard to keep up the photo-taking. And it's dissapointing; The camera could never really capture what I want to keep so, I start thinking "what's the point, anyways". Looking at the absolutely magnificent clouds in the sky today I found myself thinking about how easily I could become obsessed with them. They're just so colossal, lovecraftian. I feel the same way about them as I do dwarfed by a mountain. And that's always been magical. My favorite part about hikes is seeing something that's just overwhelming. I think the same thing is true for the small things, like insects. It's the grandeur of biology instead of the size of the biomass I'm watching waddle away from me. It's the fact of the waddle, y'know? Also, I knew I wouldn't really be able to do anything after the hike but sit around in my own exhaustion, which is true, but I still feel dissapointed, afraid to go to bed. I wanted to read. I want to write more. I have so much to say and so little time? I wanted to write about the John Locke essay competition, I wanted to work on it, I wanted to talk about the movies I watched today (Wall-e and Notting Hill), about my mom, about missing people, about Car Seat Headrest, about Marketland, for god's sake. I wrote out a list actually, and I've done this many times: where I write out a list of "reports" I want to get to at some point. I wish I could write as a profession. And think. I don't think that'll ever happen though, who knows, maybe I should try. I'm hoping that after I finish writing I'll read a little Crime and Punishment and head to bed. I need to send this email out, but it makes me nervous. Wow, I miss him a lot more than I thought I would; But maybe that's just anxiety from hoping he misses me too. Oh well, sending this off. Whoo, sent it. I'm a brave boy. Feeling some calm, some peace. I love writing, it makes me feel real. Tangible. And this song by Plas Teg makes me feel so sweet and hopeful. It really does sound like fruit—like contentness. It puts me right in the mind to settle down, just excited for what the next day will bring. Short blog entry, I know, but I'm sorta running outta juice. Man, I love. What calm, like a breeze. Writing really lets me marinate. I love being. What joy! What purpose! I'm afraid of it ending, honestly. But I want to lay down, my mind aches and yearns to be horizontal.

"Redwood Reverie" by Plas Teg on Spotify