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Saturday, September 1, 2018

Fog

Felt particularly disoriented upon waking up this morning. First thing in my mind was a dream wherein I and a friend were to host a question and answer session about faith and atheism and I had just realized that I could recall nothing whatsoever about the entire session after the first five minutes. Good Lord, I thought, I have no idea what I might have said, or whether I said anything at all! I was able to get my hands on a transcript of the program and found that, in fact, I had made one very brief statement at the outset and then gone completely silent. Of course, none of this really happened, this being a dream, but it made me feel stupid anyway, which, I suppose, is because the dream played to the real life discomfort I experience when I realize that I have forgotten chunks of information or bits of history and so on. 

So, I kind of went about the usual routine in a bit of a fog, continually trying to reconstruct this dream before I forgot that too, and feeling kind of dispirited and aimless. But then around about 8 o'clock, Nengah, the maid, showed up with her little boy, Ajus, and everything changed.  Amazing how outside input can change the shape of one's mood or thoughts--and I suppose that's because the focus of what is pertinent shifts outside of oneself. A child especially seems to automatically raise one's spirits. I suppose this is also why I try, instinctively, to get out of the house as much as possible. Sensory input tends to break up the congestion of thought and mood and employs both the mind and the body.

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