Rice cake for my drowsiness

It's so rare to have the privilege of staying on one’s own, of having a stroll.  It’s not a strain to do a walk , what makes one march so fast it’s for the sake of it. Walking is not rambling aimlessly, it’s neither a military march; walking is an orchestral art, one’s conducted... one can't just neglect to keep the beat , there’s an orchestra in one’s mind and the instruments are both within one person- that are feelings…and some of them play extremely simple and light tunes- participate in a general complexity and follow what one’s seeing meanwhile walking.


I’ve just got back from a walk, I calculated 12 hours of writing yesterday, I needed fresh air and some peace,  I simply hoped no one can put me off and I had my break. I bought the rice flour eventually and I might be cooking by tonight or tomorrow morning the rice cake (torta di riso). I keep on having dreams about me eating the rice cake, about cooking it, about …it’s all about rice cake in my dreams and I don’t know why. I think I prepare one rice cake for my friend’s birthday which takes place on Sunday.
It takes half an hour to knead the dough but… a tempting drowsiness is creeping over me and to read, to think, to write, to reflect, to cook, to think of cooking might be postponed, and tomorrow we will eat the rice cake up and whisk away the crumbs, I might suffer from drowsiness again tomorrow, the thesis is exhausting but the tiredness will be passed along with the rice cake and a stroll.