and i haven't been in the woods all year

i feel more than odd about that; awkward.

i guess i don't think about why i like to do things. i spend too much time thinking about why i don't like to do things. but, i remember my goal, when i was maybe 15, was to figure out why things make me happy. i don't know if i've been following that goal or not. i could easily say i have and then give examples. i could easily say i haven't. hmm, what examples do i have there.

i think being in the woods is the only time i'm standing and relaxed. what a novel thought for me. there's nowhere to go. there's only the woods, and you're in them. there's nothing to do but stand and look and walk.

hmm, i started to think further about why i like it, but then it all fell apart. i can't really use reasons for why i like it. logic backfires on me. it's like data talking to geordi. 'could you explain feeling angry without referring to other feelings?' 'no, i guess i can't'

why didn't i learn my lesson right then. i sleep and then forget all i was trying to retain.

so, let me tell you all about how great the woods are. haha. they're scary sometimes, and you can throw rocks wherever you like, and start fires and then throw rocks at them to put them out, or stand by a creek or walk down one, or look at a hill, and kick up dust, and it gets dark real early in there, and you can be ten miles in or two-tenths of a mile, and some things are familiar, right next to things that aren't, and you don't feel at home but you do, and the wind blows with more boister, and bark smells like worms in the moss, and there might just be leaves fossilizing some mud just beyond your footprints.

i almost never go in alone. i guess i'll have to.