Uneven Sidewalks

I bruise easily.  Yet I never realized this before I went to college where I would wake up every morning to find three new bruises with no recollection of how I got them.  I was exclaiming about this to my friend who pointed out that, at home, I knew where everything was.  At college, the probability of me running into things and hurting myself was so much greater because everything was so much more unfamiliar. 

That's one of the things I love most about being home.  Familiarity creates comfort which instills security.  Life doesn't pause or stop while I'm home but being surrounded by things that are known, constant, and unchanging certainly helps. 

I like that when I'm running, I don't have to look down to avoid tripping on the uneven sidewalk.  My feet already know where to land instinctively.  I like that the sidewalk is one that I've traveled down hundreds of times.  It's led me to the park, to parades, to farmer's markets, to the grocery store for last minute ingredients, to the bakery with friends, to art shows and fishing trips and the library and friend's houses. 

I like that I can make scones on a whim or do nothing at all for the afternoon and not feel like I've disturbed the delicate balance of a life that has no room for relaxation. 

Breaks are only satisfying if they actually break you away from something vastly different.  Which is why I also love my fast-paced, always-changing, bruise-inducing, absurdly productive life at college.

It's good to be home. 

Nonsense.

Somedays I just like to play popular music obnoxiously loud while reading about computer programming. 

I feel like jumping around and up and down and tackling and tickling people.

I don't want to be responsible and serious and calm and composed.  I want to be crazy and silly and slap happy and experience true hilarity. 

I feel like being 5 and doing cartwheels everywhere that I want to go and I don't know if its the nice weather or if I've finally snapped or my inner child is tired of being forced to be a young adult.

I'm also very tired and sleepy and maybe that's why I don't make any sense.

?

Sometimes I just like to question everything. 
What if, just for a day, we completely ignored time?  We didn't use clocks or shadows to determine our next actions but rather reacted with each other to figure out what we were going to do.  Or maybe we'd just do nothing.  Mostly likely, there would be chaos and confusion and no one would know when the day without time ended since checking would be cheating and everyone would end up confused and sad.

I wonder if we ask the questions of others that we want to asnwer ourselves.

Is it okay to be discontent?  Is there a difference between being discontent with your circumstances (not okay) and being discontent with your state of self (possible motivation for improvement?)  If you aren't discontent with yourself on some level, isn't that just personal apathy?  Don't you just become stagnant?  To want to be better, you must recognize that you aren't the best and there are greater things. 

Shouldn't a cinderblock wall be soundproof? 

Is it possible to love others without a hint of selfishness?  Even the purest of love is out of a heartful desire to care for someone else because they mean something to you.  Although even an attempt at selfless love is millions of times better than satisfaction with self-centeredness. 

Does laughter help you think better?  I'm pretty sure it does.