I have absolutely nothing to say.

That is, I haven't come across any pithy philosophical thoughts that other people have not thought before, I am sure. I often feel like this. When I "get" something at last, it seems so obvious that I am sure I am the last person in the world to understand it. Thus, I usually only think to communicate these thoughts when I am in the company of other people who somehow, inexplicably, have not yet discovered them.

I suppose I could write about free verse. Apparently, some of my friends at PHC have been arguing about its validity. I still don't know much about poetry in general, but I know that free verse seems to work its way into my soul a lot deeper than, say, most sonnets. It's strange. I think in free verse when I want to communicate an intense feeling. I think there is no way to communicate a situation in fixed form, because actual experience is too ragged. Fixed form fits the general aspect of things. The funny part is that, when I want to communicate wry humor at a situation, I think in rhyme. Is that because rhyme implies regularity that does not actually exist in the world as it is, so that it is easier to surprise people? It sets up expectations, where free verse leaves one completely open for... anything... to come next.

Hm. I don't know. I guess I should finish with the short poem I wrote on scrap paper from my purse in the 20 minutes I was waiting for Annapolis to start on Friday evening:

Awake,
Fresh in bed, new day ahead.
Hello, day.
I'm ready to meet you.

Some days, they treat me well -
Work dances through my fingers, to the
Music from my stereo.
Others seize me by my roots,
Every second a yank.

But my delight is to love each dawn
As vividly,
Passionately,
As itself.  ¶ 8:45 AM