I need to read something trivial. A short work of fiction, perhaps. A comic book might suffice. Maybe I should sit down and read an entire Calvin and Hobbes comic book.
I’ve been too contemplative lately. I’ve been constantly questioning myself as well as philosophizing. I’ve been philsophizing with several people on any range of topics. I am not fixated on one thing exactly, but the main thrust has been, at least for me, how should we (or, as I am thinking: I) live? I have a good idea of the big picture and over-arching parts to that question, but how should I live in the day-to-day and the mundane, and how do I know the best choice for every moment.
Think about that too long, and you’ll go crazy.
I was thinking and talking about stuff like that yesterday, distracted as all get-out, and I also encountered some stressful situations which only added to my taxed mental state. What I actually trying to do was get physically and mentally prepared to fly up to Maryland to see my parents. My suitcase, by the way, was beautifully packed. Thanks Kristi.
I was traveling alone, so I had a lot of time for mental conversation and also to continue to ruminate. It didn’t help that I read George Orwell’s 1984 on the plane either. Talk about a portrayal of life in of its bleakest possible forms. So as I’m sitting on this plane, with my mind brewing and stewing, and I get the great urge to be overtly emotional. “Heavens! Not here! I’m on a plane!”
I didn’t, but I was still greatly disappointed in myself. I tried to get emotional the other day, unsuccessfully, precisely so the need wouldn’t pop out at an inopportune moment, like this. The urge was curtailed, though, and I maintained my proper plane-demeanor.