An entry in which the mind twists and turns like the body
I wonder how many thoughts I fail from thinking every second. For every thought I choose to have, and maybe keep for a few minutes, there are infinite more I am ignoring. How many of these infinite paths are better and more productive than the one I choose to entertain? Assuming there are infinite thoughts better and worse than every thought I chose, being that one can always come up with a thought of slightly improved or deteriorated quality than any one currently held in mind, am I wrong in being frustrated by an inability to exist in the better half of the spectrum?
Do my thoughts exist in the better half of the spectrum? Is a journal entry on the quality of thoughts and roads-less-taken itself a thought worth dwelling on? Should I move on before I become wasteful?
This is idle, yes.
I remember awakening on Sunday with the words "Rudra Sil" on my mind. I've done everything since then without forgetting to do some research on what this mythical chant might mean, but have put it off until now. A minor but important Mesopotamian deity? A Turkish author I admired as a child? No, says Google...an Associate Professor at Penn whose name I must have seen somewhere. What a disappointment.
Do my thoughts exist in the better half of the spectrum? Is a journal entry on the quality of thoughts and roads-less-taken itself a thought worth dwelling on? Should I move on before I become wasteful?
This is idle, yes.
I remember awakening on Sunday with the words "Rudra Sil" on my mind. I've done everything since then without forgetting to do some research on what this mythical chant might mean, but have put it off until now. A minor but important Mesopotamian deity? A Turkish author I admired as a child? No, says Google...an Associate Professor at Penn whose name I must have seen somewhere. What a disappointment.