Not quite sure what I could possibly write about now. There is absolutely nothing that ever happened, nothing is happening and nothing will ever happen (at least as far as I know). It is that easy. Compared to whatever is not happening, our happenings are so tiny and so unimportant... why use a thing like language (a not so very important one for that matter,) to write about any of them. I have the feeling that language and the order of the universe might be somehow connected... think: many tiny things combined to ever new tiny things over and over and over again... (and this thing appears to be infinite...)
but...
now I completely lost myself here in this non-thought about not much... and if this is a place I was looking for... then great... or not?...
And a bird ate a dead fish... and I was right there, maybe 10 inches away... but was I?
but then there were other things that happened with fish and birds and I was just not there... or there, but without the camera...
and I am not sure why I even wrote this now...
the picture should probably be enough...
