I think I need to give up some control. This is what I mean. I woke up this morning. I have an alarm radio. It was an experimental jazz song that woke me up. I don’t know what it was called. It was interesting so I laid there not quite awake listening to it. It sounded quite a lot like cars honking in a traffic jam but there was rhythm to it. And when I couldn’t take it anymore I got up. And then my brain went like this: I am rarely exposed to anything new.

I don’t listen to the radio. I don’t particularly like TV but when I watch TV, generally I watch all the same crap, rather than expose myself to new crap. I look at the same websites. I live and work and play in my little space. There isn’t opportunity for surprise. Not really. I walk Murphy in the same places, usually. Hell, I am Murph at the end of her leash. She tugs at it and tugs at it sometimes, to cross the road, to pee on a new tree.

It could also be the sunshine. The snow is nearly gone. I need a surprise. I need a new view. I want to hop in my car and go to a café far away or just out of town anyway, it shouldn’t matter which, and order off the menu and listen to the music on the radio and talk to a complete stranger. Of course I don’t have a car.

My dreams are also tethered. I don’t travel in my dreams much, either. My psyche has been planted. I am firmly rooted. I need a little instability. I need to be shaken up.

I want to get out a suitcase and pack it up; but where would I go? Perhaps instead of one giant step, maybe there are quieter smaller ways to give up some control.

SS