Thoughts on a Whim

Kenneth - Saint Paul, Minnesota
Entered on January 7, 2009
Age Group: 18 - 30
Themes: question
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I had an incredible stretch of profundity last night in bed. Lasted nearly two-fifths of a second, honest. Such a pleasant feeling it was, I tossed and turned for two hours in search of “Re-Establishment.”

No dice.

A satisfied feeling, you know? That ever-so-often, “Everything makes complete sense right now,” feeling.

The occasional, “I’m on the brink of some great truth,” feeling.

Epitome material; the essence of everything and all.

Truth be told, I was unsuccessful in relocating the precious thought. A difficult thing I can only compare to piecing together a déj– vu—which = impossible. Kind of like something hanging on the very extreme tip of my tongue, but I can’t even taste it, can’t taste it at all.

My lying there did, in the process, however, trigger a chain of thoughts that brought me one connection closer to complete clarity. But somehow, for some reason, I can’t decipher those patterns right now either.

After this almost scary experience, in that strange state between awake and asleep—last night, lying in bed, for a split-second, once—I’m now convinced the complexities of the images and thoughts in my mind are unrivaled by anything uttered or explored this common era.

LOL, folks. That last statement was a joke. :-)

But, truly, something sparked within me an unprecedented conversation between my unconscious and conscious that somehow answered every philosophically stimulating question I’ve ever had. I think it answered them all, anyway.

I digress.

This all-encompassing thought that passed my synapses last night may have only lasted a fraction of a second, but hidden within that tiny time frame, however one perceives the idea of time and space and science and truth and creation and blah blah blah, existed hundreds of ideas and images and words and explanations that somehow formed so brilliantly into a very sensible discovery of why we’re here on this planet. I’d try to articulate the chaos in the mind of me—in the mind of a “layman”—someone who shouldn’t, or doesn’t, have the brain capacity or dollar-dollar bills to form legitimate answers to the age-old questions all humans possess, but that just wouldn’t be kosher.

I can’t answer this question, for I don’t remember the question or the answer. I spent most of my night sleeping and most of my life establishing meaning of my own, because I freestyle my fate.

I’m glad it’s now documented, to an extent.


Hugs, High-Fives, and Handshakes.