1. setting a timer by voice my smartphone is less than smart. There's something annoying in the wait while it interprets, those few moments of silence when you've nothing to do but meditate on a static object. Psychic energy draining away.
2. Ad pop-up on the computer, a moment to get rid of it. Another piece of psychic energy gone.
3. Doorbell rings. It's the neighbours - I'd taken a delivery for them. (God the psychic energy drop from 1&2 has put me back into depression, fucking singularity birthing pains)
Hard as it was to get out of bed feeling like a lorry had run over me today (maybe due to depression yesterday), it felt good to help them out. Even if they are a harmless political party. Two chaps a keen young spock with a suit and lapel pin, and an older friendly chap. Many hands make light work, I jest as I pass him one of the last boxes. On the last box he asks me if I have a studio here, yes I say, are you an artist he asks, I realise now what he meant by studio, not officially i say, I just live here.
But he asked a question, and at that moment the possibility of being an artist entered my mind. It is questions that raise possibilities because they acknowledge the "other". Without them we are alone, or extensions of another.
I don't think I can write for another 15 minutes on this, well I could but I'm not in the mood now.
Christmas is a time for giving. But I find giving a momentously difficult task. Whilst physically I am relatively rich both in time and money, emotionally it is a gargantuan task to do anything for or give anything, unless it's asked for in which case that is easier. Because giving when asked is an exchange - for acknowledgement. Whereas giving without any prompting even, well that requires from me a huge effort because I feel like a mouse amongst the cats or whatever. It just is.
I didn't expect to make that connection back to questions having left the question of questions. It all comes down to the say thing, whatever that is.
Energetic failure cannot complete 30 minutes. Good bye.