It's always the simple things. But the simple things are comprised of the most general concepts that extend to universal truths.
Whatever that means, as they say when they utter something of truth but strange to the ear. It is a defense mechanism. Plead a sort of insanity when under the viewing lens.
We are Generation Y. Shitty name for a generation. Dooming an entire generation to the obscurity of a single letter is bound to cause tremors. Especially among me.
If you're having trouble following this train of thought, blame it on the alcohol. That's what I do, what I am doing. The air conditioner just turned on and off for no reason.
We are a generation of isolated individuals. We all want to do things ourselves. We all want to follow our own dreams, as opposed to obliterating our selves for the the good of the masses.
I'm not entirely sure if our world view is based on the ebb and flow of natural, global events, or simply the progression of the American consciousness. I guess it will take time to arrive at an answer.
I have some plastic in my eyes that causes me to see. That's pretty remarkable. I'm also slightly constipated. That's not that remarkable.
There's a ringing in my ears that is not imagined. It was caused by loud instruments. At least I'm not imagining it this time.
I write for an actual company now. They ask me for advice regarding the written word, and I give them advice to the best of my ability. But I really don't know if I in fact know what it is I'm doing. I've always written completely in a stream-of-conscious mode of thought, completely in the moment. To write for a certain interest, you have to write in accordance with a certain structure, with a procedure. I'm trying to learn how to do this but it is difficult. Right, right, right.
This is probably the alcohol talking as well. It is always "probably" with alcohol. Alcohol increases entropy. It adds a sort of random element to thought. During certain moments of the night I am completely lucid and brilliant, and then in others I am tumbling head over heels and somewhat retarded. I say, "Hey you know I have this great idea, it pertains to jumping on the dog and pulling her ears back."
They say, "What? When you say you have this great idea, it makes me think you're on to something, and then all of a sudden you suggest something that isn't a good suggestion at all."
And I lower my eyes and mumble, "Well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well..."
Here we have a conundrum.
