"This is the story of how we begin to remember

This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein

After the dream of falling and calling your name out

These are the roots of rhythm

And the roots of rhythm remain"

UNDER AFRICAN SKIES. PAUL SIMON

today, i sat on the floor of my hallway and talked to my dad

i like how he treats me as though i might possibly have something of importance to say

i like how patient and composed he is, as contrasted to my whimsical, capricious firing of questions and musings

self possesion vs. impulse; it makes for compelling conversation

i found out that he was sick during high school, and missed an entire year of school. but he lived in new york city, and since everyone else was in school he spent his days wandering the city, meandering into museums and art galleries, shows and cafes, and everything else a city has to offer. missing a year of school for illness seems less than desirable-- but a year of free time in new york? sounds golden

then we got up and carried outside his old sleek road-bicycle. it took about 10 Lysol cleansing towel-things to clean it. its a rich red color, once you wipe off the years, and its light and lithe and swift and i want to go for a bike ride

what makes certain people amazing? i feel like part of this must be the fact that there are average people to compare them too. but then i meet more "average" people, and i think they are amazing too. i want to meet every remarkable, fascinating person in the world. but i dont want to find out that our common, universal amazing-ness is what makes us all average.

this is my mental conundrum of the day :)