This is almost General ChitChat but not quiet a simple reason to talk but a beckoning to think!
With the whole 2020 thang going on, I find myself pondering some small questions, some medium ones, and trying to find a way to phrase the big ones in
a coherent fashion (maybe I should just sing them!!)
So the medium question about “Do I have any regrets?” (A: Nope. Don’t even smoke!) has been pushed back from my Buffalo stance of H3ll no!
Which got me wondering what else I don’t know (or missed because I paying attention to the plot of my life unfolding with me in it)?
It is a question for a novelist of immense power. My favs are Proust and Joyce.
This is more of a Proust topic in that I would find myself in Swanns Way losing the thread of the novel as my own thoughts would spiral off pulling my
attention with them!
Mere words. Pages would go by and I would have to skip back and reread what I just read like it was a new sentence! Like being hypnotized!
Maybe it is silence during lockdown that has me thinking in tangents like this.
So ATS, any of you find yourself seeking out deeper meanings, more intelligent items to read, your mind drifting to dipping cookies in tea from
decades ago... ???
Please, stop. Think. Breathe. I think that this is actually why some have extreme “covid cabin fever”: they have never been alone with
Is your answer the same? Does it fit or does it seem flippant?
Just some fun with our brains and wondering why language and thoughts are so intertwined that reading literature can make you feel stoned and, at the
very least, see the whole world a tad differently!
edit on 26-1-2021 by TEOTWAWKIAIFF because: clean up, phat phingas!