Well, the idea of the old books died in the pages! I put the book back and closed the door. Where to go next!? Amazing how many ideas come to one in the twilight zone only to be whisked away when bleary eyed the aroma of coffee calls you to the kitchen.
Old Trunks has been trying to figure out just went amok. Is it that, as I told Soozi, that my inspiration from Mary and the micro fiche she ordered from the library in Thief River Falls is in Denver? Is it that the information from said papers all blogged and stamped finale? Am I moving into a in-the-present phase? Is it that millions of people are blogging and the more I read, the more I realize it is all opinions on the writer's part?
A concern is that I have been communicating in 140 characters on Facebook for so long that I have become crypt? Is it that even myself, the wind bag that I am, has shortened up all the reins and at best, can muster a few emails to great friends each day and even they are ambiguous in there return.
That in itself is odd. I have a great friend in the south who writes daily to tell me the weather and where he is going for lunch. If I push and ask an opinion about something, I get the answer.
Why are we in such a hurry, I wonder. I am not talking about parents with children where the parents are both working and have their children in a different 'class' every night after school. I am talking about people my age who seem to get lost in an obsession.
Why are we squeezing days into hours and hours into minutes, and minutes into nano seconds? Is this how we binge on life?
Clueless in Fargo.
Answers to follow.
Joy for this day.
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