thought_ness

What do you want to be great at? What is it that you want to be great at? Hmmm. Greatness at one thing. If I had to be great at one thing, it would be.... It would definitely have something to do with... All tethers untethered, the one thing that would make me synonymous with greatness is... ...

...

Do you want greatness? ...

I wanted to write something. I forget what, though. I know it had something to do with feelings and stuff. But the exact nuances of my lightning bolt epiphany are lost on me at this particular point of time. There is something. Something. I just don't know what. Like, what is it? What is the thing? I don't have a clue. I am roaming around looking at sunny sky splashed with green trees or whatever and trying to recall this thing, this epiphany. But nothing. Not a damn thing comes to ...

that thing you thrive in the presence of ...

Intelligence is tricky. There are layers and layers of it. Sometimes neatly stacked, other times strewn around in a haphazard manner. There are sets and subsets of it. Sometimes clear as day, other times murky as a rained down path through a forest. There are dimensions and multi-dimensions of it. Sometimes easily see-through-able, other times fully opaque. Questions, myriad in their nature, warrant a different lens for each of them. And every lens has its own answer. Which answer is t...

Can a person behave independent of their life experiences? Can a person be defined independent of their life experiences? ...

Even though I admit to being unnecessarily complicated, I can't actually let those disheveled tendrils of chaos and derangement in my head neatly organize themselves into a productivity genius that feels exactly what it is supposed to feel at any given moment. Such are the compulsions of authenticity. You can't change too much about yourself or you'll become a fake. Some things you are born with and must carry to the very bitter end. Or. Maybe it is that a complete transformation is unhear...

How is it that there are a million things to do in my head and only one gets done in the amount of time that 'I' think can fit the entire million? Why so disparate, dear brain? Please get better at math or something. ...

Things are. The world is. Thoughts are. My mind is. You are. Your way is. ...

What right do you have to talk about something you have never even done? No, that's not a rhetorical question. It's an actual question. What right does one really have? Thoughts have weight. Significant weight too. But ultimately, and probably understandably too, they are trumped by action, by the done deed. It's really not that much of a disappointment. If anything, it's nice to have that agency of action, to test out your thoughts in the lab. Hmmm. I think it's about weight. Thoughts ...

Everything is perfect. Everything is broken. Everything is exactly the way it is supposed to be. Everything needs to be fixed. This conundrum will never die. At any given moment, I have the choice to alternate between the two lenses to accommodate whatever it is that I want to accommodate. There is an undeniable urge to pick one for good, though. I mean having options is nice and all but who wants to dilly dally their existence away. You have to pick a spot. Stay there. Make it your home. M...

Okay, so. The intermingling trains of thought creating a web that has become more a super-thought and less many different thoughts, ultimately subject to external stimuli, living and dying and then raising from the dead again, all in a moment's space. And you. Oh you. You are a mere witness to this elaborate process. It's almost as if you have nothing to do with any of it. You just happened to be where the action was. Not that there is an escape or anything. But the separation exists and...