What am I? I ask

There’s a place you cannot go.
There’s a thought you cannot think.
There’s love you cannot love.
There’s a person you cannot be.

I am what I am.
What am I?
I do not know.

The past? Unrequited love?
I don’t know either.

To love and lost is better than to never have loved at all…

Hi, Beck.

You look into a few mirrors a few times and stay up late contemplating it, but the answers you get are always art, not science. You’ll capture some truths and some insights within what you come up with, but you won’t define yourself the way some chemist defines the material in the beaker as a solution of 45% this and 55% that, or anything of that kind of specificity and empirical solidity.

To love is to risk, to share, to discover your best joy in bringing happiness to another. But also the realization that you don’t possess any intrinsic power to make someone else happy. And that can be frustrating of course. The best you can do is try to connect and share and provide company, and care.

We make a map of reality as we understand it, and that’s the one we live in. That creates a tension between our experiences and our model; we’re invested in our model of reality, we’ve already made decisions based on it, and there’s the worry that discarding it in the face of actual contradictory experience won’t yield a better one, or leave us with one at all. We all have thoughts we cannot think without huge and painful costs. The most probing questions are asked by those whose models are already in tatters, for they have less to lose.

Perhaps you were once thus. Then your brave questions and your experience of dusting your ass off and forging on despite it all gave you insights. From that you built a world-view. Then one day you wake up and realize you’re all invested in that, it’s your map of reality. Well, after all, the impetus was to get away from that rawness!

We aren’t who we think we are. We think we’re individuals. We think we’re only individuals. We actually are individuals but that’s almost unimportant. We participate in larger stuff, and most of the thoughts we can ever share with others are part of ongoing ponderings that started before we were born and will continue long after we’re gone. And that larger stuff is in the foreground of most of the rest of our thoughts.

We look into our mirrors and see a brain cell and only occasionally realize we’re a brain.

To have loved and lost is how most stalkers start out.

Oh, crap

Easy. You’re Popeye the Sailor Man!

^ You live in a garbage can.

You eat all the worms and spit out the germs,
You’re Popeye the Sailor Man!
Toot! Toot!

You are a shining star.

I am Sam. Sam I am.

There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done
Nothing you can sing that can’t be sung
All you need is love …

“Life clung to him like a disease.”

All I ever wanted was love. Never anything else.
How can this one ill-thought out thread boil it all down to the entire scope of my life.

Love, love is all you need, indeed.
Thank you; Lennon/McCartney.


My alternate version: It’s better to have lost your gloves than never to have had gloves at all.

I sweet potato what I sweet potato

Hi, Doc.
You yam funny!

You turned on the gas, and burned off your a$$.

Jeebus! I have no end of trouble getting my phone working and Beck gets suicidal.

Ryan Reynolds’ cheesy phone company sucks. Let’s see if TracFone is better.

Experience is what you get when you don’t get what you want.