Walking to the BANK the other afternoon

I think it is kind of strange how we have an impulse to hone down a sensory moment. The wind was coolish and I was emptied of thoughts in intellectual pursuit (which is a good sign, because at those moments I'm wailing back to find its application) & I wanted to embellish the consciousness of that sensitivity with the desire for more of it--quantifying, that's all. I was at the peak of the deep, and I wanted to get it behind me: truly in this case hindsight was going to be 20/20. That is the instrument to my success--having felt presumptuous, if at a point of endurance from no longer being the spectator (observer) of the realistic--but of only illusion: my perception. & more than that not an intellectualization (like this) but rather an insensed moment *as an actor would speak of: the observation of neuro-activity, like that of a winter's day as a kind of competing for its profit (the existential thing-ism).