january 12 aok
We went the Raptors game tonight. It was a lousy game for the most part, one of those "oh, we were due for one of these" games where everything went wrong for us and everything went right for the visitors from Philadelphia, but, while there, I had a little cluster of what I've started calling integrations.
This isn't me being weird. You do this too. You just call it something else.
I'm talking about when you, the person, the walking computer made of meat that can (but doesn't have to) shoplift and light fires, make a connection, or find yourself exceptionally present within an experience a moment that simultaneously serves as connective tissue between two larger thoughts, or moments, or ideas, and also the simple realization of what happens when that bridge helps connect...
something to...
something else.
When I integrate (I don't call it that and now that I see that in print, I never will) I think what I'm doing is processing the post-defrag situation. I think my internal system sometimes just runs some kind of defrag program and I'll (unconsciously) file and shelve everything and tidy the joint up, and, when it's done, I'll find all kind of things (thoughts, ideas, plans and memories) that had been lost in the pile, and then file and shelf those things, and then it just like happens. I level up. Everything gets really slow and something very nice happens. Even after the moment is over, the memory lingers in a way that tells me that I will remember it fully and, one day, look back at that moment with fondness because nostalgia is a hell of a drug and in 20 years it'll probably be the only one I'll be able to afford.
🌲 gonna
🌼 go
🌱 touch
🌳 grass sleep
🌷 now
Be good to yourself.
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