Of course I know by now that thinking about a word in a linguistic way is often, in me, a squirreling off away from something else. This kind of observational self-consciousness can be good, helpful, though it can introduce unpleasantness of its own. But ultimately I'm not ambivalent on the wisdom of pursuing it, applying it. I was just e-mailing from a self-examined place to one not in that place, at least with regard to the subject at hand, with the realization that we may not be able to have the conversation I was hoping for at all. 'Slike different languages entirely.
Not looking inward may well be the better choice for some folks sometimes, or always, and for me, sometimes---but not always. Right now I aim to stick with paying attention.
Vague shit, I know. Sorry. It's kind of vague time mentally with me, this afternoon, post b-fast & ReUse & postcard flipping through; now at my library branch, where someone had left a brochure in the ladies' room stall for Girl Scout summer camps, inside the back cover of which was a list of 11 things for girls to do to build/bolster self-esteem (#11 being "Go to Girl Scout camp this summer!"---who knows how good that suggestion might prove). I thought all of the others savvy/legit enough, save #7 or 8---whichever one said to listen to your inner voices, cuz they'll steer you in the right direction in this regard (or words to that effect).
Are there not many of those Girl Scouts who have fucked-up inner voices already? Maybe not. It just stood out as disputable, vs. things like choosing to be around people with positive attitudes, or taking care of yourself physically, or saying "no" to doing things that aren't good for you. Perhaps I'll write to suggest they replace that inner voice one with "Two words: 'Thin Mints.'"
Yes, I've been a free agent of experience and thought today, floating around, seeing what meets me in the world, going with the fflo. The world has stuff to show me today.
That Bob Seger song "Main Street" is about a place that used to be on Ann Street in A2.
Will I visit the Great Thistle Patch this afternoon? Paint the sign? Just keep wanderin'? I know not. I care not. Having the kind of freeform Saturday the inner voices never seem to want me to have, anymore, in the post-traumatic-shock days... So fuck #7 or 8. And I'll be drinkin' tonight. Two days in a row. Wooo!