Carpe Diem

I sit in my seat, just behind the stair way, looking around at everything and nothing. Sometimes it amazes me that my mind can whirr away for forty minutes and achieve nothing. All those dead end thoughts and half formed ideas. Superficial musings drift aimlessly in and out of my head like floating seaweed in a harbour. Nothing comes together to last beyond the next traffic lights; no impressions made that deserve a place in the memory, except perhaps that I realise that if I look at windscreen wipers too long they become weird. Swish swash.

"Carpe Diem" - how important do I think this is? It did great things for Harvie.

But we cannot spend every moment of every day trying to squeeze the most out of it, can we? There is a time for working and a time for sleeping and time for letting seaweed drift through the mind. Perhaps I need an aimless bus ride every now and then?