Out of Order

Sometimes I want to post about real philosophy, but just don't have the energy. I think I would update this blog more if I did. It's a personal problem which, I guess, I have to deal with personally. I sometimes feel like a kid in a toy factory. I look around and I see all the amazing things this world has to offer. I want to know about it all, I want to ask so many questions about so many things, yet it feels like I would never do much living if I spent my life overawed with wonder. So, like the rest of the human race, I somehow manage to invent boredom to prevent myself from being overwhelmed by the universe.

It isn't that I think that if I knew the way things work I'd be more in tune with everyone else and with the world at large. I know that the place where I fit is unusual and odd. I don't mean that in the goatee-laden, disenfranchised way that so many others would say it either. My idiosynchratic way of thinking doesn't even fit into the place where the depressed, disenfranchised mass of artists and poets fit.

I try to make these posts about my intellectual life, rather than my emotional life. I suppose there are plenty of spaces in my experience of the world where I can express my emotions, but few where I can truly express my thoughts. It's hard to talk to people about your thoughts, because so often we find that everyone is trying to talk and noone is listening. For some, the emotional and the intellectual life become intertwined as their thoughts and feelings become linked and they are either unwilling or unable to let them diverge, even for a moment.

I'm not even sure that I express my thoughts here. Every attempt to make the thoughts and words line up together just seems to find my words lacking. They are just another expression of me, and like me they don't quite fit.

For this post at least, this blog is: Out of Order.