"... shall I begin like David Copperfield; I was born. I grew up..."
The average human loses time each day thinking about how to communicate something to other humans in such a way that sounds progressive and interesting, like I am now, sitting in front of a computer trying to understand in my own mind where to begin. Not that the loss of time is wasteful, it is in fact quite necessary in order to comprehend the notion that there never exists within this realm of life the idea that time is wasted. Footnote, for the last statement rings me into another subject to which the last twelve years of my life have been devoted. I'll cover that matter soon enough. And besides, this post is just to begin, even the weakest of the wise instruct fools to never lay all their cards upon the table at once, especially in the earliest of beginnings.
The mind is a place of great windstorms. It seems that every thought is whisping around inside the head from one to next, colliding sometimes in space; where once one idea was spinning along, there now begins a star cluster of thoughts slowly dispersed in the collision of the first two. I'll simplify by saying that I interpret the thought process of my own human mind toward the experience of life like the vortice; a fast moving whirlwind, largely unpridictable, often destructive, swirling with the debris of interpretations from the interaction of lives, beautiful, chaotic, very well organized.
The truth is, that my human sensing capabilities are, as is for all, a massive array of tools used for observation. I enjoy remembering. And who I am is nothing more than a constant, yet brief fixation on the various movies I've enjoyed watching, music I've listened to, places I've seen, and people I've met. Not all of them I have liked all the time, but remembering,... sweet memory.
The mind is a place of great windstorms. It seems that every thought is whisping around inside the head from one to next, colliding sometimes in space; where once one idea was spinning along, there now begins a star cluster of thoughts slowly dispersed in the collision of the first two. I'll simplify by saying that I interpret the thought process of my own human mind toward the experience of life like the vortice; a fast moving whirlwind, largely unpridictable, often destructive, swirling with the debris of interpretations from the interaction of lives, beautiful, chaotic, very well organized.
The truth is, that my human sensing capabilities are, as is for all, a massive array of tools used for observation. I enjoy remembering. And who I am is nothing more than a constant, yet brief fixation on the various movies I've enjoyed watching, music I've listened to, places I've seen, and people I've met. Not all of them I have liked all the time, but remembering,... sweet memory.
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