cogito ergo doleo

I had often wondered how people could become so sad, until of course, I experienced some sadness myself.

I survived, I got my mind back and while my heart has a few stitches and dents in it, it’s still quite functional – just a bit more cautious and maybe a little wiser.

Life is for the living. Stay there if you can.

I think that everytime something or someone hurts you that you kind of die a little faster for a little while.

Sort of.

I think its a combination of the effects of stress and depression coupled with the idea that your mind can affect your body; like the placebo effect but in a harmful way.

Conversely, I also believe that if you can find a way to stay above the pain you can keep yourself in the land thereof for a while longer than you perhaps would have.

Just throwing this out there but:

I have some very odd theories on life, the universe and the purpose and meaning of both.

Someday I may even share some of them. Maybe.

I also wonder where the job title ‘sage’ went. Where did they go? I still hear about ‘sage advice’ but seriously, when was the last time you met a sage?

My point exactly. Ah well, maybe the world doesn’t need or want sages anymore. I always imagine them as opinionated people, ones that make nuisance of themselves until their most excellent advice is taken. Come to think of it, the world could use some sages.

There are many, many other things that I wonder about. My mind is a strange place, a place where quantum mechanics sit down to lunch with post-modern theory and discuss the finer points of deconstructionism, or maybe it was structuralism they were discussing…or was that at tea?

You get the point I trust. I am always interested in learning, in knowledge of any sort, be it applied or theoretical, fantastic or mundane. I love the new, the old, the ordinary and the extra-.

I love writing most of all, even when it only makes sense to me.

❤

*This post was weirdly disjointed. I am both a fan of it and not quite sure if I like it simultaneously. I suppose one can never be sure of something written after waking up from odd dreams.