String Theory et al.

We are living in a universe held together by string! According to some mathmaticians, physicists and a whole lotta other smart people. The opposition party consists of people that believe in Atoms, Electrons, Protons, and good ol' sub atomic smashing of things. Then there is of course the religious theory of God creating Adam smashing into Eve. The other theories seem to be the Trailer Trash Theories which range between, Stuff happens, a government plot, or possibly bored Aliens from somewhere other than Earth and beyond. Personally I seem to fall into the "Trashy Theories" and believe that the Universe is held together by beads.

Let us face it who does not like beads. The indians liked them enough to sell their land, or get free blankets. The people in New Orleans like them, tourists like them and small children play with them, make things with them and eventually choke on them if they are not supervised.

To satisfy other theorists I like to link the beads together with string. Beads and Strings are great gift givers as oppose to just a handfull of colorful and decorative beads. Then light up the beads with glowing stuff inside and we have a necklace or bracelet of bright mesmerizing orbs that can grab the fancy of almost any child or adult that is not blind or otherwise handicapped, toward beads or strings that glow. Finally give Adam the beads to give to Eve and watch the fun begin.

Problem solved. Time for a nap

Chumly

Procrasstarnation!

I don't want to do it! But I have to. I don't want to get up in the morning. I don't want people calling me I don't want to talk to. I don't want to be poor. I don't want to be jobless. I don't want young people dying in any wars. I don't want my cat to sit on my stomach with her butt to my face. I don't want to not have somekind of suprise in my day. I don't want to overeat. I don't want to hear what you don't want to do so why should you want to hear what I don't want to do.

The end.

Internalspective

Ever sit in the center of your mind? I tried this one evening just before my pre-rem sleep. I was having a hard time sleeping and it occured to me to sit in the center of my mind. What I saw was the shape of a person that was illuminated sitting in the dark. I was disappointed because I thought that some kind of hidden world would open to me. My mind was not willing to reveal itself or was it my brain that was unwilling to show me what was in the center of my mind? I guess I could have used my "imagination" but my brain or mind would have none of that. I can take a brain and hold it in my hand. I can label it's parts, feel it, cut it open, toss it, and see it. That I could never do to my own brain because it is beneath my hair, skin, skull and other stuff. How can I use my brain to see my mind or use my mind to see my brain? Was my mind suppose to tell my brain to reveal itself or my brain tell my mind to show me around myself? I somehow drifted to sleep, then woke up the next morning no longer sitting in the center of my brain or mind. So it continues.

Friday - Jobless -hopeless

If I had to describe my life in a word it would be "Unreality!" That is to say the world I believe in does not exist. My expectations were molded as I grew up. I learned certain things as a child, mixed them up as an adolesent, tested my theories as a young adult and finally concluded that unreality is the concept of my reality. Life seems to change in a moment. A loved one dies too young, as an enemy lingers on forever. What can be planned is planned but the result is that some other cosmic plan occurs that was never even thought about. For example. I love "Rolling Stone" Magazine. For years I wanted to be published in this Magazine. I tried to write articles and do music reviews, made up stories, whatever. Then I finally concluded that I had no talent to write for "Rolling Stone." Until one day I read an article that moved me. Every fiber of my molecular self knew that, my "Letter to the Editor of Rolling Stone" had a very slim chance of being read, and that my self indulgent opinion would never be published. Thus my plan was to amuse myself by writing my opinion and my reality was the satisfaction that I had written. The "Unreality" that happened was that my opinion was published by Rolling Stone, and my employer read it and subsequently fired me. Thus I was plagued by the feeling that I was on top of the world for being published and the counter feeling that a bothched suicide was about to take shape. This has been only one of a series of "Unreality" in my life. It may not matter to no one but me. My plan is that it won't but that I can just blog along as I damn well please writing about the ureality of my life.