it happens all the time. a moment of inspiration or a question i'd like to ponder will buzz around in the back of my head like a fly at a window. and then something interrupts this thought, and the fly finds a crack in the window and is lost to the outdoors which is my subconscious. is it narcissistic of me to find these thoughts entertaining and be disappointed to search my memory and find them gone, unprocessed? well, if so then call it my guilty pleasure.
is this inability to hang onto what seems important and worth exploring at the time another tell tale sign of my aging mind? I have never feared or loather growing old, but i wont't argue that it isn't inconvenient. I'm learning this at 22. To my knowledge i dont have wrinkles yet, but my ability to remember everything and never sleep if i dont want to is quickly fading. Is it time to start doing crossword puzzles and getting into bed by 10?
I hope not.
so, this is the explanation why ten minutes ago i thought i had all the makings of a deep, inspirational blog, and now I have only the question of where it's gone.
lame.
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