I haven't done too much dino writing in the last couple of days - or at least nothing noteworthy - but this afternoon I jotted down some lines ( words even ) in one of my little notebooks, while sitting near an old tree. My bare feet in the grass, my behind feeling the wetness of what might have been dog pee straight through my upper pants and underpants. In other words, some serious earthing was going on.
I just started typing what I wrote back then and some new lines and a kind of ending / closure appeared out of the creative space called my head / brain / soul. It eventually channeled through my fingers, via my laptop's keyboard to magically appear on this blog. Pretty cool.
One morning he woke up excited.
So excited that he just couldn't hide it.
He had no other choice than to keep his excitement in plain sight.
As was to be expected,
everybody he met asked him who this was,
if they could get to know his new friend?
And when he replied that they should be cautious,
that it was infectious,
things changed.
According to the majority, things that spread were not to be trusted.
He disagreed with this. He trusted peanut butter ( and jelly ) and even sandwich spread, although the latter was a tad too sweet for him.
And - in the process of disagreeing - his excitement disappeared.
He looked for it in every place he could think of, until the sun set behind the mountains and he had no other choice but to retreat to his cave.
First he couldn't hide it and now it was hidden from him.
Poor Hypersensitivosaurus.
The picture above this post is the view from my living room / balcony in Portugal, the place I can't return to right now, due to "the thing".
About a week ago, @whatamidoing and I talked about "the thing" that must not be named. We recorded that call. If you're curious, go here and listen to our beautiful, intelligent voices interacting and presenting a more positive than average take on "the thing": Untangled Knots-4-Optimism At the End of the World