the owl

The owl has left and now I am completely alone. I was soberly aware of what the owl meant before it was gone and I fully realized what it would mean if it left , but I must confess I didn't actually think it would happen. I am not prepared, I don't know what my next move should be- I know what I need and that is nothing short of having the owl return but how I go about that escapes me. The owl was everything- it brought everyone to me, it provided me with consistency, it was the streets I traveled on. Now nothing makes sense without the owl here to give reason to these random occurrences. The owl was the point where everything converged like a napkin ring that brings it all into a central meeting place the owl brought everything together and then released it with reason and purpose. Now there is not a reason or a purpose to these napkins because the owl is not here to create it. Oh how aware I was too of what the owl meant to all this, I was constantly acknowledging the influence the owl had but now I have no owl to acknowledge. I have no recipient of my praise because there is no one or thing worthy of my upright praise. What do I do know, where to start- Nat

Whatever

I am feeling blah. The situation of continual work , shoving in friendship encounters in spaces available and lack of proper diet has left me feeling this way. Too rushed for me, not enough depth but a lot of ground covered. I was in Caronport the other day and I popped into the library to visit my old friend Carla. I walked past the cubicles that are for rent and remembered fondly when I had one of them rented. I would spend quite a significant amount of my time sitting in that cubicle and reading my books. I might have felt a sense of ennui at the time but in retrospect I was stable- I knew what to expect and I let myself sink into that routine and live off the security that only familiar surroundings can provide. I don't mean to sound like there is not a scrap of warmth in my life right now because quite honestly ; looking at it in a subjective light- I have a lot going for me. I do however want to slow down, what is the point of having experiences at all if I can't sit back and glean from them. I need to reflect, to introspect, to let everything slowly sink in so that it can become part of me. I am tired of being a hard shell- a slick surface that everything just repels off of. I want to be a forest floor that slowly decomposes its occasions; that gradually turns matter into mulch and rich soil. Whatever- Nat