A nothing journey to begin, and a wonderful sight at the end………


I haven’t yet figured out a title for this blog, I am typing just to be typing, I have no idea what I will write I am just writing, searching for something, not to just write about but still searching none the less. What am I looking for? Why the sudden urge to put fingers to keyboard and let thoughts escape my mind, it is blank my mind and yet it is filled at the same time. Perhaps that is why I am writing because I am filled with thoughts and yet not thoughtful at the same time. Why choose this way to voice my sudden want to write apparently about nothing? Why have myself type when I am so bad at it and have to backspace all the time just to catch the words that are spelled wrong spilling from my mind. Where is it that you want me to go, give me direction and I will go, give me a subject and I will write. Nothing, nothing comes to mind and yet my fingers are moving over this keyboard of their own volition, hmm, another misspelled word. I can feel energy flowing to my finger tips and I can feel the tugging of my mind, but for what reason, am I to fill the screen and this blog with words of nothing? Taking only what time I need to spit tobacco juice into a spitter and swallow some Diet Pepsi, is this what you want? I need a direction and a subject if you want me to be of any use, or perhaps it is because of the desire to feel of some use that I am writing nothing at all, gibberish, words and sentences that have no meaning. How long do I go on before you let me know what it is that you want, you gave me no title to use with my words of nothingness. You let me sit here and wander aimlessly from sentence to sentence not saying anything at all, or is that your purpose? Do you wish for me to say nothing at all when I know that I have so much to say to others? Why are most of my sentences formed in question? I have tried to clear my mind of the thoughts that are there to see if you would give me something to write about, but no, nothing comes to the fore front of my mind. Could that be what you want me to write about? Nothing, nothing at all? I can see before me a blank slate that yearns to be filled, and notice that my fingers move slower than when I normally type, trying so hard not to misspell words, and yet I still do and have to go back and fix every single one of them. I listen to my wife cough, watch my mother in law walk to her bedroom. Is this what you want me to see and to relate, common occurrences, hmm another misspelled word, that happen all the time, am I to listen to what is around me, to hear the world moving of its own accord? And still nothing to write about. I hear the crackle of the monitor beside my bed the whoosh of the air conditioner through the vent, the sounds of the television in the living room. I watched as my mother in law walked into the kitchen and the beep of the microwave as she pushes the buttons, am I supposed to sit here and listen and record every thing I hear? I can hear the me sound of the machine in the living room that gives my wife oxygen that helps her breath, a small conversation between my wife and her mother that is of no consequence, the sound that my wife makes as she moves in the living room, a small groan and the creak of the couch. I hear them talking of different things, like that she may need a new mask for her CPAP machine, she is afraid she isn’t getting enough oxygen from the one she has. Is this what I am to write. To tell of the way of my world as it goes by? And still I sit here and type with no destination in  mind, no direction, no topic and no subject. I can not hear my son he is in his room doing what it is that he does, and what that is today seems a mystery to me. I hear the back door open and wonder where my mother in law is going, I hear the clank of Gerris portable oxygen bouncing down the back stairs, my mother in law is quite the mystery to me(look I used the word mystery three times now) she won’t ask me to do anything, I could have taken Gerris oxygen tank up there to have them replace or fill it but I never seem to know what she is doing till it is done, the crackle in the monitor is getting worse, it is starting to irritate me a little. And yet I still sit and type, why am I typing, what is the reason behind this exercise? It appears to be nothing, nothing at all. I hear my wife in the kitchen getting a Diet Mountain Dew from the fridge, and yet I still just type what I see and hear, if this is to be the exercise then I am not much for it, I can feel my scalp crawling like it is alive, some damn side effect to adderall. I still feel the energy flowing to my finger tips and that is the reason I have not just stopped typing this damn thing and deleted it from before my very eyes, am I supposed to post this, people will think I am crazy, I have told myself to limit the amount of posts I place out there on a daily basis, but yet I can’t seem to stop, every word on everything I hear and  think is going on this page of useless words I have written so far, my wife IM’ed me and told me her mother was going up to the medical supply store because my wifes mask was up on her eyes while she was asleep, well what about that. Small sounds of my wife moving around catch my hearing, small little things that tells me she is still here, it is what I listen for in the night, the sound of her turning over, coughing, moaning. Brings to mind of when I was a child I would listen to my mother snore just so I would know she was there, and when she wasnt there I would not sleep at all. Funny that isn’t it, that I listen for the sounds of my wife and mother in the night just so I know they are there. Well at least that was something of substance and not the dribble I have been writing. I am going to go and see about raising my wifes oxygen machine up off the carpet it seems to be running hot and I think it pulls air from the bottom, look at me trying to find anything, something to write about. I even went outside hoping to find something to muse over and the only thing I thought was damn this grass is hot on my feet. I am thinking that writing about something is not the exercise here,  but to write about nothing, which I seem to be excelling at. so I guess it is back to writing about dribble, about the static hissing from the monitor that sits beside me night and day, of the television in the living room, telling a story though I can barely make out what the story is, it is very distracting you see to be able to barely hear something and not to know what it is about, kind of like this page of nothing that I seem to be writing right now, I have no idea what I am writing about or the intended purpose, I just know I have to write and hopefully what it is that I am supposed to get out will come, but what if it doesn’t then what use is it for me to continue, except to give me typing lessons? All the furniture in my room is black with a gold and silver chinese motif on it, all of the pieces are massive and they are squeezed into a 10X10 bedroom, not a lot of room to move, I am staring at a set of massive 1970’s armoires one has a mirror and the other is adorned in the chinese motif that I was telling you about. That is not what I am supposed to be writing about and that was a strong feeling too. I guess I am supposed to sit and tell you about what I hear and see moving around me, but if I am to tell you what is around me wouldn’t the armoires be a part of it, NO it is not.

My mother in laws house chirps incessantly, and I mean it really chirps, not like a bird but in a mechanical way, I have my guesses as to what it is and it could be true, I think it is part of the old alarm system that she had installed years ago but now is not active but yet it chirps, every few minutes it chirps. I have gotten used to it but man is it annoying. THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU  ARE SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING ABOUT EITHER, screams my mind, sorry if that was loud. Ok now I am getting confused, I don’t know what I am supposed to be writing about and I am starting to get angry. Why can’t I stop, this incessant writing, or typing cause I am writing about nothing.

Perhaps there in lays the answer I am supposed to clear my mind and just listen and look and write about just that nothing, lets see if that works, I will sit here and type what I hear and see not with my eyes but with my mind.

journey with me through my mind and see what a world I have left behind

When I sit upon a hill, so silent so still, wonders of the world race through my mind, I see color, I see stars, I see music in every thing around me, it is not that the world is inanimate but moves ever so slowly to its own beat, the drums of a thousand souls runs through the temporal lights in my mind, the breaking waves of time slip through my fingers as I watch from the shore of eternity in my mind, I cannot close my eyes to the wonders I see before me and yet it is if I am in a dream though wide awake, you see what I see through the words that I type and yet I cannot explain where my mind wanders, to what distant worlds do I travel, am I in the same universe that my body inhabits, tobacco juice runs down the back of my throat, burning my throat with the flavor of wintergreen and salt, and yet I cannot escape from the visions of my mind, I see the spaces in between the spaces, the places where little children hide, I can hear the counting of the time as it slips away, this is where we are from you and I, and a place we can only visit for we will never return again, so I am to describe to you what I see, the wonders of what it would have been, to know that we will never see such wonders as these saddens my mind and heart, would I return to you again and grasp you on the arm and to tell you of what I have seen, would you listen or would you think me insane, perhaps, perhaps, I think that you would see the truth of what I have seen and the places that I have traveled in my mind, if you only see my body shaking, my breath intaking of the sweet remembrance of what is was to have been, I make no sense you see for the ramblings of a mad man are just that, ramblings, or would we call it musing, ah yes much better to call it the musings of a mad mind. You would look upon my mind and see where I have been and enjoy the sensations that have traveled through my body. Taking in such sweet visions as have never been seen before, we could travel there you and I but not in body but only in mind, watching the shooting colors, blues, reds and golds, to see the tree upon the hill where we set and watch the worlds crawl by, viewing life as we not know it, but only as we could have, for you to enjoy it is the key, to close your eyes and see, I see animals that once were and some that were not, I see people who could be but are not, I see beauty where beauty is in every thing, I see clearly your eyes as the wander through my mind, blue, ice blue and piercing to look upon, they do not judge, but yet they look inside my very soul into the darkest and lightest recesses of the very thing that I have stolen, that glimpse of what was supposed to be and that can never be. I wanted you to journey with me to this place that could never be and wanted to watch as a thousand suns set in your eyes, I am changing right before my very eyes, in to what we shall see, but know that it is me, I would not be a horror, or beauty to behold, I will just be me, interruptions and more interruptions, makes my mind wander from the thoughts I had in mind, this not making sense is not for the majority. To be in line with the thoughts of before to take me back forever more, to give my mind one more glimpse of the fantastic events taking place in that land whence I came. I can no longer gain access to that place, it makes me sad that it was a one time thing. Perhaps I will erase all but the last, but I feel you must travel along the same path that brought me here or was it there, I am not certain any more, I will set this before you and see where your journey takes you, if you find yourself on a hill overlooking a world you do not know then rejoice for you have made it to that place I have put down before you. I just hope your journey will have been easier than mine and not have to suffer the words of nothing before you get there. Such a wonderous place to recall, but that is all I will be able to do now is recall, I am to never visit that place in mind again. Sorrow and loss have more meaning to me to know that I will never see it again. I am hoping that you will get there too, and view the wondrous things that I have  seen, and if you could would you try to take me back again, or at least describe to me what you have seen, so many wonderous things to behold I could have spent an eternity there but only for the soft call from my wife telling me it is time to come home we need you and love you, that is what I heard but whether in my mind or for real I will never know. I now have a title but do not know how many will follow it to the end and many will think me crazy to begin and to end this journey of my mind. Will you read through all of this to find what comes at the end, if you do, it will please me but if you don’t then please keep an open mind for others to follow.

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