………..same old

Have been trying to read books again. Usual books about people. Not spiritual ones. It does not interest me anymore. People does not bother me anymore. Chip said it is a beautiful world. I wonder what kind of eyes she ses with? To me it is just “same old, same old” everything I see and hear and read………. been there before. Feelings, idéas, adventure……….been there, old stuff. Why do I recognise everything? And nobody recognises me.

It starts pulling again, for what purpose? There is nothing for me to read and nobody for me to talk to. Vacuummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm