Sometimes we walk randomly in distant places visiting townsquares,
straying in fisherman’s dock loitering in public parks

Sometimes we meet strangers, randomly in booksstores and get into conversations

Sometimes we exchange informations, ordinary and simple notes

Sometimes we extend invitation to continue the conversation

A short walk becomes long, morning extends into evening
Randomness becomes a purpose and goal

Goes on and on and offers an option
an awareness of feelings, association of certain thoughts

Cutting sentences into fragments and rearranging randomly
We feel distance and attentiveness of each other

We are not walking dictionaries waking up tired words
We are solitary walkers walking randomly and meeting

Where do you want to go?





what am I thinking

“What then was the origin of randomness?”

note: I started reading The End of Certainty by Ilya Prigogine. At the same time I started Ulysses by James Joyce for a book club group reading with some members of the Napa Valley Writers.We will be reading Ulysses for nine months under the guidance of my former English literature teacher from Napa Valley College. Our text is the 1922 text from Oxford World Classics edited by Jeri Johnson.