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Asides seem to be the stories of the stories of our lives.
Asides are wandering and wondering,
Asides are pondering and puzzling.
Asides are our peripheral sense of being.
Asides are a deep breath into the silenced soul.
Asides are an opening out.
Asides are a breath of fresh air, a long breath out.
Asides are walking, drawing, writing without reason.

Going to New York, flying across the Earth, driving around Europe, heading for China or Japan. These thoughts seem so far away. Just walking each morning, some writing, a coffee, seems to keep me, hold me - on some sort of journey, maybe each day as a journey, with a few unexpected side roads and paths and tracks to explore on the way. This first thing in the morning awakening is like me setting some sort of coordinates, setting sail into the day, seeing a way, not quite knowing if I will get somewhere, basically because I'm not quite sure where somewhere is.

I'm being slow again, time has overtaken me, time to go, 08:07.
I'll dissolve into this day.

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