May 12, 2005


Strangely, the only time these days when thoughts with any semblance of coherence visit me are the few moments, or hours during the really bad ones, before I doze off to sleep. If I had a notepad in my brain, I would certainly have jotted them down then and later grant them freedom its nocturnal castle. Since that does not quite work in the possibility's realm, I am forced to wander aimlessly in my thoughts during the day, languishing in my thoughtless helplessness. Not that any of that matters much. After all, I have nothing new to think or write about, other than the same old issues looked at and whined about endlessly from different angles numerous times.

Now that I can finally remember it, one of the things I was thinking about was the capacity for truths that people have. A vast majority of the people who inhabit our little planet have only a minute capacity to swallow the truth as it is. In fact, most of us would gladly give away the capacity to be in touch with the truth if it would make our lives happier or easier. Come to think of it, that might not be that much of a bad thing. After all, even after living this way what is the most important thing that I do other than complain endlessly? Blue pills are nice to pop into yourself in movies. Was it blue or was it red? Damn, I can't even remember that. Can I get angry about that too?