I went trail running today. It was a nice feeling. Running, jumping, sliding. I might consider it as an alternative to mountain biking for a while. I don't think I can keep it up though. My ankle still hurts, which is a little concerning. I've never sprained or broken anything before this, but I'm not convinced it's supposed to take this long to feel better. Oh well. I'm not too worried about it.
I went to the creek at the end of the trail and sat for a while. I watched clouds. Watched fish. Listened to the creek. It was a very meditative experience. I had a good chance to think about things. Not about the things I should've, though. I still don't know how to go about this whole 'life' thing, so I think I'll just keep on playing that one by ear. See what happens.
That sounds like fun.
We're all going to Lake Georgetown tomorrow. I've never been to Lake Georgetown before and the one opinion I've cultivated was that "it's probably some kind of pier that you just sort of jump off of a few times and sit around and talk and it sucks." Even if the lake somehow turns out to be a short pier jutting into a shallow fishing pond, I'm excited. It's a new place. And I like swimming. And being in the sun.
It's hard to be yourself sometimes. Everybody responds to everything differently, and that makes social interactions into some kind of mask dance. And then we forget the masks are there. It makes me wonder about the kind of company I keep.
I went to the creek at the end of the trail and sat for a while. I watched clouds. Watched fish. Listened to the creek. It was a very meditative experience. I had a good chance to think about things. Not about the things I should've, though. I still don't know how to go about this whole 'life' thing, so I think I'll just keep on playing that one by ear. See what happens.
That sounds like fun.
We're all going to Lake Georgetown tomorrow. I've never been to Lake Georgetown before and the one opinion I've cultivated was that "it's probably some kind of pier that you just sort of jump off of a few times and sit around and talk and it sucks." Even if the lake somehow turns out to be a short pier jutting into a shallow fishing pond, I'm excited. It's a new place. And I like swimming. And being in the sun.
It's hard to be yourself sometimes. Everybody responds to everything differently, and that makes social interactions into some kind of mask dance. And then we forget the masks are there. It makes me wonder about the kind of company I keep.
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