4

Move now you've done nothing so wander go roam & because it is easy to walk away from something when its angry as long as it doesn't yell at your back I got up made mobile my creaky joints & walked towards the west. I could still feel Sun's frustrated pulse on my shoulders stabbing through winter air but I didn't turn back & Sun didn't shout although the pulse quickened.

& with movement no thoughts & with movement no thoughts & with movement no thoughts I kept thinking to myself in rhythm with my steps but obviously it wasn't true. The ground crunched the dry grass snapped & the only sound was the wind & the whisking of dormant plants. Why Antarctica was attractive. & with movement no thoughts & with movement no thoughts & with movement no thoughts

But the truth was I didn't have anything to think about & I didn't know what to do with myself in the middle of this prairie & I didn't feel much of anything but concern that to feel useful I must make myself perform some kind of action other than walking. In the city I could have found pieces of parts of things to mess around with but here I'd forgotten what these pieces & parts did. Because they were living I felt wrong taking them apart for my own amusement & curiosity. See, Creature, ethics still exist.

What to call things was slipping from my head. Thicket. Forest. Where did one start & the other begin. Can a row of trees be called forest. What is prairie. Is this wasteland or nature. I moved toward the trees because I was hoping for some fallen branches or a stone to give my fingers & my human brain something to mess with. Because no movement is the same as no thoughts.