Tuning

He again spent the day in the company of two things, his computer and his music. His focus that day was to clear his mind of the flotsam and jetsam of what normally occupied his thoughts. Nothing he could put a name to, other than the myriad of preconceptions, shortcuts, perceptive filters, social expectations and general ignorance that kept the wheels of society greased and in it's usual stupor.

He pondered what to fill his mind with instead. The encounter from two months ago still rattled around in his mind, and perhaps with a fresh look on it, in a better frame of mind, he could make more sense of it. His thoughts drifted forward to a new world, one with a better foundation, one where things could be questioned and studied without the kneejerk reaction that he was far to accustomed to. Somewhere where science held a better place in the world, if not studied by the masses, at least where certain constants and hundred year old info was commonplace rather than an exception.

He would want to be at the heart of this rebalanced inquiry. To be among peers was his greatest wish. He struggled to not focus on the apparent negatives of his current situation and refocus for better times ahead. He calculated the calories in his mind of his current snack, wondering wondering how long it would be till he was with people that cared about the same things he did.

People who didn't take the world for granted, people who looked at every nook and cranny and sought out the hidden things, rather than gorge themselves on the painfully obvious. He wondered what patterns in his mind were forming with the notes of the music and where it echoed to.

A part of him was scared. Scared at stepping out of the nest his mind had made over the last three decades. He knew he had to though, he could only handle stagnation for so long, and he needed to re-write his mental software. New patterns emerged in his minds eye. Only small ones at first, but the seeds for change.

A sense of togetherness dawned on him. Taking the best bits of the old and the new and seeing them work harmoniously. Showing more clearly where the gaps were, where the unknown lurked and sought definition and light.

His body ached, as if in sympathy to his mind wanting release. Once again, everything was cut short. The new structures still struggled to find a proper foundation. His mind was most at ease in the frame halfway between sleep and waking, where the rules of the world around him slipped out of focus and thoughts came to him unbidden and from odd corners and directions. It was the cusp of madness, but he welcomed it. The castle of the day was too much too stolid. The variations were to few and far between and the creativity was once again at the wain.

He wanted to drink fresh of the unlimited possibilities again. To see the world as he had in youth. The present was but a sour note onto all that. Clashing with the idealism he once held and practiced, bland expectations clouded his best intentions. It would take a lot of effort to remove such blockage from his thoughts, but it was required.