A Long Train of Thoughts On Such a Short WalkSparkler Post
So in my last post I said that if it got 3 hearts I would post more on Thursdays. You guys completely suprised me and I actually got 3 hearts (you have no idea how much I expected it to just sit there and get no hearts). So here I am, on Thursday, writing again. Since I never did say what I would actually be posting, I thought I might as well say it real fast before I write my actual post.
The idea is that I'll write a series called "Shower thoughts" (hence the tag). It'll just be about the thoughts that I think in random, sort of in-between times, like in the shower or on the walk up to the bus. I'll post every Thursday and hopefully it'll be interesting or relatable to a few people, and if not, well, we'll see.
Walking seems to be almost as good a time to think as showering.
I can think about how the world is so odd; not the people, but the actual, physical object that is Earth. A giant ball in the void of space that's burning up on the inside somehow manages to have all sorts of interesting properties, like weather and life and wind and just about anything you could name. You could spend a year just describing it, or you could spend 5 seconds. It depends on how deep you look, I guess.
I can think about how we're not that different, the Earth and I. I'm burning up on the inside, with passion and feelings and all sorts of things, and sometimes it feels like a giant void could swallow me up. As for all my interesting properties, there's how I look and how I see and how I feel and how I work. If you want something that'll take you a long time, try to figure me out. Not even I've done that yet, and I've had my whole lifetime to work on it.
I can think about how life is kind of odd, too. It can be short, it can be long, and there's so many ways it can end. It could end with the begining of a new life, it could end with another life ending yours, or it could just taper off on its own. There's so much that could happen in between the begining and the end. Nothing could happen or everything could happen. The nothing/everything that happens could affect the whole world, or it could affect just you and a few others. In the end, anything and everything is possible. It's just that most people don't care about possible; they care about easy.
I can think about what I care about. Do I care about money? Not much, but a little. Do I care about easy? Not really; not much comes out of easy. Do I care about everyone else? I think that I do; sometimes though, I wonder if that shows through at all, if I look selfish. Do I care about myself? I don't know. Some days, I do. Some days, I really don't. I guess it depends. Do I care about happiness? I don't think so. I don't do much to ensure my own hapiness, as much as I really ought to.
I can think about happiness. What is it? Why is it? Do I have it? How do you get it?
I can think about how much I think, the sheer, massive, load of how much I think and feel and see and taste. I wonder, sometimes, if this will bring me down some day. If I will simply overload from all of this.
I can think about computers. Would I be a cyborg? I think I would. Computers can go through so much information so fast, and they still don't overload; they can rember lots of information and if they run out of room they can just plug in more memory. They don't overload nearly as often as I do, and that seems pretty useful to me.
I can think about what, exactly, I would do if it was 'useful'. What my limits are. I don't think my limits are lines; instead, they are wide fields of "Maybe I would do this" with oceans of "I would never do that" and "I'll always do this" on either side. My limits are hard to find, but harder to break. After all; how do you break an ocean?
I can think about how scattered I am. I'm here and then I'm there and then I'm way over there. Yet somehow, I keep functioning. I keep functioning well, as much as that seems impossible.
I can think about what keeps me functioning. Is it magic that enables me to think so fast? Is it science that enables me to think so much?Is it some supernateral being, just for me, that keeps me from falling apart? I don't know, but whatever it is, I'm glad that I can fit such a long train of thoughts on such a short walk. Because as odd and sometimes overwhelming they may be, my brain and my thoughts are the best asset I have in this strange thing we call life.