The wind...

I could not understand anything he did. It made no sense, was all to no purpose. He was always reeling about, never staying in the same direction for more than a day or two. Years had passed, with endless pursuits begun, none finished.

"I don't know why I live this way" he said, "It can't be helped. I'm just carried about by the wind within."

Food comma

It signals a momentary break between the eating of different foods in a meal, as when slightly pausing after biting into the potatoes after taking a bit or two of the meat.

Some irony

about a group of people whose adventures in trying to see a performance are far more amazing than the adventures featured in the performance itself.

I find

things changed.

But this morning I awoke from a dream of some complexity, but so dim that I could barely remember anything. Maybe, the whole dream was like that: Too dim to make out, but hinting of a greater complexity. If so, my dream was not complex, but I dreamt of complexity.

Why am I not

a Norwegian sailor?

A bookish man.

"BF94," he mutters in wonder, "that call number is new to me."

The snakecatcher

had been hired to remove all snakes from the king's vast palace garden. He labored for hours, searching the garden for snakes, scooping every snake found with a net. By the end of the day over a hundered snakes had been dropped into the snakecatcher's basins, and the snakecatcher was certain that he had searched all areas of the garden, had found all the snakes.

But then he noticed a certain nook he had overlooked, just into some bushes near a tree. Perhaps another snake might wait there. He went under the tree and looked into the bushes. He saw an enormous purple snake, staring out, so that its face pointed towards the kings palace. The snake was much larger than any other snake in the garden, larger than any of the snakes known to grow in that country, larger than any snake the snakecatcher had ever seen. Not having moved, it spoke, "There will always be snakes". Oddly calm, the snakecatcher said and thought nothing, turned, and left the garden.

His final clinic

had no real medicine. Neither did it have herbs, obsecure teas, or any exercises to be conducted. The doctor had concluded that most ailments can be treated through the application of water in its various states and temperatures: boiling, as steam, frozen into ice or snow, as a cold vapor, and so on.

Dialogue while walking to work

Me to stranger: We seem to walk at the same pace.
Stranger to me: It's our eagerness to get where we're going.

The reawakening

of the second mind, brings responses to things not here. A little jelly fish at ocean's bottom whispers.

When I was a child I actually imagined things. Now I just have thoughts, sometimes about things not here. A part of the mind withered.

We are

always chasing after phantoms and visions. The prudent tell us to ignore the call of ghosts and dreams, to attend to the present.

My wife says:

The oldest one is still alive. And he will be the last to die.

Headquartered

in the fortress, I survey my domain.

So maybe

you don't really believe in any particular religion, or maybe you do, but either way:

If you could choose which religion were TRUE, which would you choose?

The new simplistic

psychology, invented to replace or add on to Freudian id, ego, supergo.

I present three gremlins of the psyche:

1. The Negato, who firmly says "no" to thoughts, ideas, opportunities, and so on. Maybe you should draw a picture? No, says the negato, and you don't draw it. Maybe you should go out tonight? No, says the negato, and you stay home.

2. The Affirmito, or Creato, or some better name, who is the one who comes up with all those ideas of what you just might do. If you always listen to him you'll be constantly active, and constantly doing new things. Perhaps there will be no direction to your actions, and maybe nothing will get finished, because each idea must be acted on, each opportunity taken.

3. The Schmego or Shmego, who doesn't really make this a nice trichotomy, but has to be included anyway. A sort of internal guardian angel, who sometimes has the solution, does the right thing, when nothing ought to work -- the thing-inside that brings the dead-drunk home safely.

The idea was

that there was such a thing as a room of ultimate significance, though now it strikes me that a better name would be room of maximum resonance, but that's all a matter of naming.

About the room: It is a sort of final destination. Though you could leave, go elsewhere, and so on, the room would push some important aspect of experience to a maximum. Maybe that aspect of experience is significance, or maybe meditiveness, or maybe some feeling of resonance, but now I'm getting vague or iffy. Just combine a sense of calmness with deep significance, and that's the part of experience that the room is attuned to, or is so likely to bring you to.

Is that what I used to think the room was (or maybe there are several of them)? Or has the idea changed along the way. And maybe you can wonder, is it really a room? Couldn't it just be some other place, like maybe a field somewhere? But no, it is a room.

Do you know

the true meaning of Kitchener?

It's elusive, but somewhere a bit on the outskirts of the city I began to feel it, the meaning of Kitchener coming on me like a sort of emotion that will somehow transform itself into knowledge. But all I'm left with now is the word "ramshackle" and that can't be all there is to it.

Shinjo, you

say this blog reveals something about me... What?

This

is written in a room that seems devoted to dark brown, for it collects all the dark brown things in the house. Tomorrow, we'll come home from somewhere and somehow in the room will have materialized a large pile of dark brown corduoroy pants.

Ummm, ya...

...So how is your sense of totality? Cause, somehow it matters, even if you never stray far, that all that stuff is out there. That is, you may stay here, but that won't make everything else (and there is apparently so much everything else) go away. And even if you go far and wide, can you really take it all in? Maybe. I don't know. But even if not, surely we can have a sense of how big things might be.

Or maybe nothing matters too much but what is here around us right now.