A Badly Drawn Circle?

I mark the passage of time each morning via the squeeze of the toothpaste tube. The tube is now over half squeezed out. I remind myself that 'you can't put the toothpaste back in the tube.' This morning it's 'sweet love blend' in the coffee pot, yesterday it was 'witches brew.' Today I feel lively and positive, yesterday, I felt tired and negative. Charting my feelings is like charting the direction of the wind; the one constant: the wind will blow.

I think I'm heading into a new phase: my head is swarming (kind of like a colony of mad bees) with new ideas. I've been tapping back into the flow. Playing my guitar, writing notes for a new play, taking long runs on the lakefront, listening to old records (John Mayall, Harry Nilsson) ordering some new books (Michael Frayn's latest play 'Democracy,' Jean Paul Satre on Existentialism, and Guy Debord's 'Society of the Spectacle' -- since the French are in such disfavor in the U.S. at the moment, I have decided to plunge into the core of French philosopy and intellectualism).

I'm convinced there is a purpose to this mad journey, even if I don't know where the hell I'm going. Maybe that's part of the beauty - the not knowing. Wouldn't it be funny if after a long eventful journey you realize you've just been running in large, badly drawn circles?