Thy Bed Calls My Name

Yet I ignore it as I lie in the van, among my newly built floor. Pondering on topics from the day and quickly scribbling them here on this blog. 

I wonder now, on [that word]: lie (or lay). Which fits the usage here? Or in days passed, where I type the word, I ponder its proper selection without understanding of the need to decide which should I use?”

Futile as it is, my care is small. Like hearing the difference in syllable or annunciation of pen or pin. Both sound like pen! The joke haunts me through my life, as such as lie or lay. I waffle between the usage of context that surrounds because I remain ignorant. 

Even with the word-nazi within me, I continue on in bliss. But as they say, this bliss… it’s bullshit, this bothers me often — almost enough to investigate. Though the rebel behavior within this body disallows me to reconcile the riddle. 

Running on 2:22 on 2.22.2(018), I will slide off to bed. Rather, to go eat and potty and then return to sleep in my nomad pad. I like it here, but wonder how summer will be as I sleep among random streets and lots as needed or rather wanted. To save my time from hectic morning traffic to destinations that I must attend early. Or on the road trips that I aim to return to. 

I must retire, charge my laptop and my phone, hit the pillow and wait for (peaceful) dreams!

2:24 am, Thursday, 2.22.2018

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