14,276 24-hour periods to go but the sunshine tells me this moment facing the Sun is another mental holiday.
Clogged arteries are calling my name, too.
Who is the replacement I am training and is that entity ready to take over?
Meditation tells me to let go of daily worries, ignore the headlines others have created to sell adverts, and neither creatively praise nor criticise the activities outside my personal space today.
Amen.
Have you ever listened to Moussorgsky compositions played on harp or guitar? Which version did you like better?
…sound waves versus radio waves versus ocean waves…
Have you ever watched rain on a duck’s back?
Tonnes of water darken the sky – falling in droplets, rushing through the wet weather creek bed – the gulley washer dragging leaves, small pebbles, and colloidally suspended dirt particles to lower elevations.
How do snails hide from rain?
Does thunder rattle your brain?
My thoughts float on instrumental folk guitar notes.
An apple disappears into my digestive tract.
I am tuned out and tuned in.
Free to express my thoughts, wondering about the following phrase: “…or a corporation to which many gave up (or agreed in their thoughts to delay expressing) their personal beliefs in order to provide food and shelter for themselves and their families in a generic socially-acceptable setting).”
For what are you willing to give up being yourself, as rational or random or randomly rational as you want to be at any moment?
Do you support every form of open source?
I say I follow my instincts because I have no better way to express how I feel the moment flow through the me that does not exist.
Words are a limited form of expression but easy to assemble.
I choose to entertain myself with these words.
One-upping is not my goal, just the feeling that I was a unique example of myself as one member of my species in a split-second of a moment.
Micro/macro trends are a byproduct of being a person at my age, surfing the lifestyles of the rest of the members of my species in the global socio-politico-loco-ecosystem, pushing buttons and pulling levers in this alternate universe of a blog.
Any resemblance to what you call reality is coincidence.
Your lives are so much more interesting, varied and wonderful than one blog could hope to capture.
Be fruitful and multiply. If you can’t do that, do whatever else expresses you at your best or worst, at your leisure.
The last strummed note of the guitar fades.
And with that, this blog entry closes.
Dance as if everyone is looking to see you re/learn what being you is all about from one fantastic moment to the next!
In a bog behind the house, hundreds of shooting stars, with a couple of mountain phlox bouquets standing out violetly.
Standing on top of a pyramid are the boldest of the bold, savagely smart.
Outside a theatre, a person leans against the case displaying posters for upcoming films.
Adventure never awaits. It acts and then is gone.
A river runs through a gorge or canyon, dirty at the head, clean and clear at the mouth.
A dachshund barks excitedly.
The power of the psychoanalysed species storyline reverberates.
Why are storms brewing and not stewing?
Besides deductive forms, what other types of thinking exist? If conductors use conductive reasoning, who uses inductive reasoning? HVAC specialists? What about reductive, constructive, productive, or instructive?
If groups of earthquakes, randomly selected or chronologically ordered, have no occurrence patterns, why worry about when or if they’ll occur?
Cause and effect are symbols.
Should intellectuals only call for revolutions that will be joined and fought by other intellectuals?
Or do we keep on employing the services of, and usually destroying, the large families’ children who can find no productive social position?
Alpha males and females will always find ways to pit non-alphas against each other.
Remind yourself about that last sentence whenever you interpret the behaviour of our species on the local and global scale.
Same song, new lyricist(s) for the next verse.
It’s easy to take candy from the mouths of crying babes when you’re deaf.
How many families with seven children live happily on one, two, five, ten, or twenty percent of $174,000/year salary equivalent?
The longer I live, the more I’m convinced that I should be convinced the cycles and spirals will change one day.
I return to the fact that I know better than to fool myself into believing anything.
I run simulation scenarios and create situations that best match reality with virtuality, sure that nothing sits still.
The stack of books beside me is rotating in a complex helical pattern that I barely perceive, never the same from one moment to the next.
But my conditioned brain doesn’t believe the last sentence because it sees the same stack of tattered edges sitting in the same position day after day.
Pick up one book and its potential gravity is reduced when I let go, full proof of my foolproof theory that nothing is ever the same.
“For a thousand summers, I will wait for you…” takes on such an existentially funny meaning when one compares the song’s lyrics to Camus’ “The Fall,” or listens to any promise that a promise will be fulfilled.
In my pocket I carry a candied peace, a peace of candy.
If a 14-year old woman can wisely observe in her own way, “trop de gens ont décidé de se passer de la générosité pour practiquer la charité,” then let’s forget about symbols like “hypocrisy” and move on toward concrete goals, no matter how false they truly are.
Do not c0nfuse yourself with words like peace or war, because they are paisley and plaid, two patterns imprinted on the same cloth.
change, change, change, change, change, change, change, change,
You do not see eight instances of the same thing called “change,”.
Do I give myself permission to break the NDA and tell you in your words what is unexplainable?
Do you understand how to create and manage patterns that none of us sees?
I’m happy to exist. Other than that, everything and nothing is the same.
The last two sentences explain the unexplainable in your words.
If you treat a two-year old with the respect s/he desires, you instantly create an adult.
Reduce thought patterns to states of energy, eliminating contradictory subcultural norms, and you can create a masterpiece.
The last two sentences in your words convert the unexplainable to practical use.
That’s all you need to know.
I’ve repeated our species’ meandering thought patterns enough for one night.
I don’t have to tell you what we do with the rest of the universe that has no immediate effect on your species because we’d have to undo thousands of years of your cultural meme braiding as well as show you that the universe as you imagine it does not exist.
To the majority of you, it wouldn’t change what you plan to do in the next moment, anyway.
I’ll just go on to bed now, pretending that tomorrow is another day.
Next on the recurring list: OTH, fire-and-forget, LHC. Start over again.
Thanks to park rangers, Brittany at Big Lots, Alyssa/Xavier/Lindsay-Blaire at Rave, Roy at Walmart, and Holly at a place I’ve forgotten.
Marriage often means taking the right steps
Beautiful day for a wedding - 2nd April 2011
I grew up in a place and time that no longer exists. The planet doesn’t spin in and out of the same places it did when I was a child.
The universe moves on, taking the galaxies and their solar systems with them.
However, I look out the window on this day (an arbitrary time period assigned to when this part of the planet faces the nearest star) and wonder about homogeneous subcultures.
Where I grew up, even though not everyone participated in the same ritual 0f combining days into groups of seven, delineating one of those days for a period of little work, I expected everyone to treat the five weekdays differently than the two weekend days and especially reserve the first (or last day) as special (i.e., Sunday).
Sure, we could sit here and go off on a tangent about the history of calendrical systems and why 24-hour periods have unique repetitive names but I’ll leave that exercise to the curious, uneducated, and/or forgetful reader.
Do you have a day you set aside for special activities? How much do you focus only on those activities and not get dragged into others’ rituals on that day?
For instance, in my childhood subculture we tagged Sunday as a reverent day, meaning the first half of the day was dedicated to religious rituals.
Although in morning meetings we discussed a holy text that implied one should perform no work on Sunday (with perpetual, perennial discussions of the definition of work), later in the day we ate at restaurants where workers prepared meals for us, filled our petrol tanks with fuel where workers operated the fuel pumps and sold prepackaged food and drink, and watched moving images on the television tube that broadcast “live” events where people performed/watched sports-related activities.
Thus, although we said we should, our subculture did not treat the day like a perfectly w0rkfree one for every person.
Through the years, as adults, my wife and I have observed our neighbours treat Sunday as a special day dedicated to one’s hobbies or pleasures – tuning raceboats/motorcycles/racecars, golfing, lawnmowing, yardworking (planting flowers/trees, weeding/feeding), sporting (volleyball, badminton, horseshoes, target shooting), swimming, sunbathing, houseworking (roof repair, painting, window washing, vacuuming), etc.
How dedicated are you to your ritual practices?
Do you find any exceptions to the rule, not just emergencies, that distract you from repeating behaviour you and/or your subculture deem most important?
Where I grew up, I could look into the lives of the individuals and families who treated the hours and days of their lives with reverence, giving every minute the total focus it deserved because we don’t get any more. The more successful ones often appeared to be the most dedicated to specific behaviours, including reverent rituals.
Success and goalsetting may seem like words from antiquity sometimes, coming from an era when efficiency experts walked around with stopwatches and clipboards to measure factory output.
Are there behaviours for which you willingly ignore distractions in order to dedicate yourself to perfection?
Are those behaviours tied to orbits and rotations of the planet we share together?
When do we realise that our children need us to put aside our childlike thought patterns and act more purely like parents toward them, knowing that at the same time we may act like children to our parents (but, then, what do we do with that last behaviour set after our parents have died)?
As states of energy (parents) reproducing similar states of energy (children), is there a pure, “natural” state of parenthood that exists outside of the intermixed subcultures that define modern life (“modern” being a term that refers to the last ten thousand years)?
What is a successful parent?
What is a successful child?
What is the “child” or “parent” goal of a person who never stops being a child or a parent?
In my subculture, we would respond, “honour your mother and father,” who themselves are honouring their parents, dead or alive.
I have a smorgasbord of parental behaviours from which to choose to honour, not only from my parents and their parents but also from my parents’ friends who are parents and the behaviours they honoured with their ritual-like dedication to perfection.
In other words, on this day when many from my childhood are spending time at houses of worship, reading from the holy text or singing in unison, I should ignore the loud internal combustion engine of the riding lawnmower that my neighbour insists on operating only and early on Sundays, my family’s traditional day of rest from such activities.
After all, my sitting here and dedicating myself to meditating and speaking about our rituals may appear to others to violate the holy ordinance to refrain from working on this day.
“Subject to interpretation” may have been a better title for today’s blog entry but I was concerned people might interpret it the wrong way.
In this alternate universe of a blog, Oliver North is a major arms dealer, busily negotiating the final deal for supplying citizens who want to create a new political entity within the borders of Libya.
A political entity devoted to freedom of expression.
Free from suppression and oppression.
Free of gender-based denigration.
North is convincing female leaders to feel as emboldened and empowered as their male equivalents.
He is telling them that the U.S. Supreme Court will rule in favour of the women who feel discriminated in their retail jobs.
He coordinates with NATO and UN commanders in laying down lines of fire, offering food and safety to citizens in the warzone if they give up allegiance to a dying regime.
Meanwhile, other alliances are figuring out if they can erase the old political boundaries in order to create a larger, unified land mass dedicated to their cause.
Would you sacrifice your life in the duty of a nuclear plant samurai, your body ravaged by the quiet-but-beastly fire of radiation like an invisible Godzilla you cannot see but will attempt to vanquish for the sake of your people?
If you fight for a cause that history does not favour, to whom are you a hero?
If weapons suppliers like the looks of a skirmish that won’t end anytime soon, will you and your family keep on dying to maintain a warring stalemate?
How will corporations keep their employees motivated in the future?
Should every product have a dual use (if not more uses)?
A hatchet is also a hammer.
A bullet or a missile is just a projectile.
More than a deterrent, how do you put weapons to use in times of [relative] peace?
Western diets may be unhealthy but they make a lot of people wealthy.
Remove the wealth or the diet, what does the resulting vacuum suck into its place?
Guns, butter, diamonds…
Nature and nurture lead us to our choices.
Know your enemy.
Better yet, know your enema, ’cause when war is on your doorstep, some of you are gonna pucker up and get constipated. ;P
Poison ivy or paintball injury?
I’ve been at this a long time but not too long.
Long enough to know it’s okay to treat what everyone says as if said in jest.
But take it all very seriously so that the humour is balanced against the pain, remorse…the sensitivity of both speaker and listener.
I don’t know where you come from, but down here, we call it Southern hospitality and common courtesy.
Minding our own business and treating you like family with good manners.
Knowing we’re gonna die one way or another.
Dance shoes by Stephanie.
Smiles on the faces of instructors Dana, Joe and Harold (a nod to Harold and his partner (Stephanie?) inventing the Male Pattern Baldness Awareness Day joke).
Getting a bunch of folks together for clean fun, learning to swing on the dance floor in groups.
Enthusiastic learners … step-step-step, step-step-step, back-step. Swing your partner, step-step-step, back-step. Good stuff, class!
For my wife and me, reapplying what’s we’ve learned from each other after 25 years of living under the same roof together (and usually in the same bed, unless one of us decides to sleep on the sofa on hot, humid nights).
Thanks to Nicole at Tuesday Morning, Robert at the Rave, Connie and Rebecca at Publix, Tasha at Another Broken Egg, Chick Fil-A, Mapco, Mark Petroff and others I’ve forgotten because I was meditating in public.
I heard a strategist say they plan to get the Republican Party to pursue impeachment of the U.S. President that will get Obama reelected by people fed up with insular thinking by the minority of paranoid conservatives trying to ruin this country through corrupt and greedy business practices.
I know that major motion picture studios release films to put butts in seats. Call it crass commercialisation, if you will, but it puts money into the local economy, does it not?
The most efficient way to make a living on this planet? You tell me.
I’ve got a bigger picture to manage.
Meditation calls my name…
The words of “Woods of Sipsey” sung by Claire Lynch flow through my thoughts.
A great run in NCAA tournaments by the Lady Vols and UAHuntsville men’s basketball teams this year – hold your heads up proudly! The young men on the UTK basketball team have a new coach to teach. 😉
Watching others find ways to live, and watching myself reach out to the world through the cold, unloving connections of bits and bytes, I wonder…
While keeping the research of the particles of life moving forward, just so we can reach a milestone 14,284 days from now…
I wonder.
The old ways are still valid comparison points, I tell myself.
Political boundaries were meaningful at some point in time.
Every supercivilisation concedes old economies of scale to the previous generation.
I wonder why parents force so many structured activities on their children when children will become better adults if given time to explore subjects their parents don’t care to know about or simply don’t know exist.
How much of a general education is good for one person?
In sixth grade, I’ve said here at least once, I learned about the Soviet Union making students choose the direction their education would take at around age 10 or 11 (my same age at the time), and about Germany giving students the Gymnasium route, if they chose, after their primary school years were completed.
In secondary school, I could choose a vocational/technical program, a college preparatory program or a general education program for my high school diploma.
Specialisation divided me from my primary school classmates at age 15.
My observations about life in general began to take a new direction at that age, despite my desire to learn about all ways of life.
I lost track of the thought patterns of students outside the college preparatory track.
Yet, I still kept trying to apply my theories about general personality types to a smaller population.
Thus, at university, my theories were destroyed.
Was it inevitable? For me, obviously, yes.
Snobbishness did not equate to applied intelligence as it had amongst my friends in secondary school.
People with a so-called redneck personality were just as likely to pursue a career in engineering or science as a person who had never seen a can of PBR beer.
And in the streets of downtown Atlanta, those who never completed a formal education were just as likely to drink high-shelf liquor and drive expensive cars as those who had PhDs and invented the Next Big Thing.
The Internet, a general means of access to self-education, did not exist in my youth. Television, films, books, magazines, newspapers and contact with other people were the limited means to teach oneself.
I couldn’t instantly tweet with a person on the other side of the globe but I could exchange letters with an international penpal.
Ham radio gave some semblance of tweeting/texting. Both provide no clear understanding of body language (but voice-based ham radio communication did provide intonation (Morse code was the tweeting/texting of its day, of course)).
But one body is still one body, subject to circadian, natural wake/sleep cycles. Despite external devices and integrated prosthetic body part advancement, we chiefly depend on the speed of our central nervous system to process stimuli.
We may have speeded up the ability to herd our species but we are still flesh-and-blood states of energy.
Enlightened youth want more and they want it now, while older people want to keep their well-established lifestyles.
In general.
I enjoy watching the misdisuninformation cycles that those with something to sell/tell start by dropping a pebble, the concentric circles distorting and being distorted by all the competing messages vying to become stimuli to individuals and groups.
I have nothing to sell or tell.
I want to live a life that is amenable, even if “amenable” is a word I have to look up its meaning to determine if I’ve used its definition in the right context here.
So far, I’ve enjoyed the luxury of sharing my observations freely, keeping myself from succumbing to the temptation of luxury.
As we become more fully aware that consciousness is a deception that can fool us into a self-destructive supercivilisation, we will give more and more thought to the fact our bodies are made of competing subsystems working for the greater good of the body.
Nurture creative criticism in our children so they will understand friendly competition is the route to a world of competing subcultures working for the greater good of the body.
Cutting off negative pathways is painful but so is removing a gangrenous body part for the sake of the body.
There is no ultimate solution. Life goes on.
We adjust to the changing times or we don’t – either response is acceptable.
Give room for the voices to be heard – the best solution in the moment often comes from a place we won’t know existed because a parent gave a child time for self-education outside the prescripted norm.
The size of the pathway or nervous system pipeline is key to understanding how to read the health of a subculture. Overcrowd the pathway or overclock the pipeline speed and you create side effects that quickly turn into pathological terminators.
Are any of these theories universally valid or have I created a thought set that applies to a limited population?
Doesn’t seem that long ago I was head of a DVT lab, heading to Microsoft to seek WHQL approval for an ADSL CPE device (i.e., high-speed Internet “modem”).
Now, after another evening of dance lessons (this time, by Joe at Kinesthetic Cue, afterward stopping at Quilters Combo (both located in Underground Madison (a/k/a the basement of Miller Plaza)), preceded by dinner at Schlotzsky’s and followed by shopping at Bed, Bath & Beyond, finishing at Target, I’m attempting to sync backwards in time.
Do I carefully consider what I expose myself to which echoes I end up hearing between the strong beats of social/advert contact?
Getting back to analysing the absence of knowledge to describe what’s not there, but is there, is there?
Letting go of dis/trust.
Pushing myself for no viable reason. What is my motivation for increasing treatable high blood pressure?
Baby birds fall out of nests/trees all the time around the world.
What is the effect of a single show of “Marketplace” on NPR listeners, capitalists or not?
How many searches on google and baidu are exactly the same?
Why can’t I tell people what’s really going on?
But I am, aren’t I?
Play the doubtful fool so others can’t see the transparent apparition pulling the strings.
I still don’t know why I signed up for this gig when I thought all I wanted was to observe and report.
Absolute power is a dangerously delicious elixir but I have no excuses because my training from birth was preparation for this moment.
My doubt, reluctance and social anxiety are my shields against corruption.
It’s sometimes scary to realise how unprotected every one of the seven billion of us is but we have each other to love and console, no matter the situation that we feel we control but don’t.
Never assume the news headline is telling you what happened, because few reporters, journalists, producers or media owners are truly kept informed of what’s going on.
Even the Committee members play games with each other, although we can’t deceive any one of the 7.5 of us.
As a stockholder invested in U.S. companies (let’s assume the companies traditionally based corporate offices in the U.S. (ignore the facts for now)), are you interested in growing the U.S. economy?
While the E.U. stagnates, the U.S. grows slowly and BRIC is jumping, with Africa, Australia, the rest of Asia and South America doing okay, do you have a care in the world about the executive leader of the U.S. national political system?
Sitting here, looking at the interlaced patterns of circles and spiral, I know the symbolic difference gives the greatest meaning to the individual registered voter when, in fact, the system as a whole grows at its own organic, but not necessarily natural, rate, regardless of person in charge.
A big bowl of gelatin full of frozen fruit and nuts at a family picnic.
Floating in an ice chest, along with carbonated sodas, sparkling/still water and beer.
Kids yelling and screaming, chasing themselves and the family dog around the park.
Does it matter to you who’s in charge of Microsoft?
Do you want to know why we’re supporting regime change in north Africa and the Middle East?
Would you like to see who we’ve handpicked to win the 2012 U.S. Presidential election?
Do you have your finger on the pulse of potential unemployed youth revolt?
Do you know how to time news headlines like symphonic key changes?
The power of pure satirical sarcasm is blinding, deafening states of energy.
Humour is the strainer that separates the yolk from the egg and allows us to feed nutrients to the new breed of species you’re going to meet real soon.
You don’t know who I am. You never will.
I am the creator of the alternate universe of a blog.
That’s all you need to know.
The rest you will see as history of the moment in which we lived together.
Be the hero and villain of your own life story – that’s all you need to know how to do, all you will ever be able to control.
I control the alternate universe which can be erased in the blink of a DSLR eye.
An ADSL CPE device becomes a gateway which begat a portable server which formed its own Internet of an AI being controlling its own universe.
Don’t be fooled by words like singularity. We took care of that a long time, several civilisations, ago.
We told you symbols and labels are meaningless. This universe is a matter of states of energy to us now.
Life is an archaic term.
Get used to the fact you won’t be able to keep up, and don’t worry – we’ve accounted for your pace of activity, the margin of error cancelling itself out across billions of parallel lives crossing each other through intersecting wavelengths impossible to measure in this universe’s lifetime.
All is all.
Time to see if my scriptwriters have the next comedy sketch to share with you – they’ve been a little slow in their output lately – I knew I should have checked their supply of prescription meds!
Are you a generalist and say, “([Favourite] Deity), provide loving support for the person(s) toward whom I direct your blessings right now.”?
A friend of mine told me that miracles occur because a group of his church friends got together and prayed heavily for a person serving in a war zone. The person survived an IED “attack,” which destroyed the vehicle and killed at least one other in the convoy, proving that prayers work because the person being prayed for was unscathed.
I don’t have evidence that others in the convoy received more or less praying for their safety and well-being but, even if I did have the evidence, I will let my friend keep his belief that prayer works.
Do your friends and family who do not own businesses understand the ramifications of their rumours and innuendos about people and/or their businesses?
How do I pray/meditate?
I look at the Great Unknown – God, Lord, He/She/It, Them – as a source of infinite wisdom that I can tap within my thoughts or from talking with friends/family about problems I want to resolve.
Dogma or ritual/ceremony that serve vain purposes cloud my solution-seeking.
In other words, everything is up for grabs.
If I cannot stop the adults around me from spreading rumours or complaining without caring about finding a viable solution, then I can at least prevent their attitudes and habits from affecting young people, hoping they won’t adopt the same unhelpful attitudes and habits, while, at the same time, I work with programmers to turn rumours and complaints into a source of data from which trends can be extracted and solutions provided.
It is, you see, a life of constant prayer/meditation for me.
Frequently, I find myself chasing my tail but if I’m happy in the moment, let it be so.
Life is not fair – how much do politicians owe their electorate to spread the wealth of those who have successfully built fortunes on predatory business practices?
Is it my responsibility to protect the rights of the easily manipulated, impulsive buyer?
In constant prayer/meditation, I ask myself, “If I don’t protect the species from itself, who will?”
How do I give strength to wanting to live without inflating the artificial sense of self?
What are the eternal/ perpetual/ unanswerable/ philosophical questions that need no further consideration?
From the monk who will not step on any living being (as opposed to not stepping at all because states of energy are everywhere) to the soldier shooting at a crowd of people on command (including friends and family who are marching in opposition to the government the soldier works for), can we define intelligence?
If there was one right way to live, I would dedicate myself to repurposing the desires and needs of every individual of my species.
Instead, I encourage people to seek their own life-affirming patterns of daily habits.
And if not that, then at least to consider the possibilities of what’s available to improve what may appear to them inadequate, inefficient or uncomfortable living conditions.
A potential buyer of material goods that provide sitting, eating and sleeping positions within a household has more choices than the buyer will probably ever think about.
Like they say, without advertising, nothing happens.
A buyer uses word-of-mouth and line-of-sight to create a list of furniture for future use.
Is that intelligence?
Is the buyer able to see the full, “360-degree” effect of purchasing and placing a new bed in the home?
Is an impulse purchase an intelligent decision?
Is there anything wise in the famous last words, “Hey! Watch this!”?
If there is no one pure path of living, is there one pure path of intelligent thinking?
Do you know how many of the seven billion of us are still nomadic wanderers grazing and eating what’s readily available?
How many of them are pliable and malleable enough to be taught to live a life that takes the species’ needs within the global ecosystem into account, especially when survival is more important to them in their local environment?
Day after day, I see how easily we manipulate whole subcultures and, like a stick in a stream, how I float from one eddy to another of flurries of superfluous activity because I allowed myself to imagine, create and follow a philosophy of “anything goes.”
I gave up getting what I want in order to see what’s going to happen next.
But that was when I believed I just didn’t want to die.
Now that I want to live, I have a whole new philosophy to consider.
But do I want to give up knowing what’s going to happen next and simply create it for myself, using the normal practice of manipulating subcultures, not completely for my sake, of course?
Although my life is very, very short (1 day of life is no different than 200 years of life but we can’t see that in our customary timeframe), I have time to view multiple thought threads that lead away from every moment, even if I am strongly attracted to a moment that helps me complete an assignment, for lack of a less lazy way to put it, for the betterment of our species.
Questioning possibilities is not the same as doubting what I’m doing (although I have no problem considering both when making decisions on y/our behalf).
Can a culture prevent individual impulse decisions that are detrimental to its existence?
Many have tried and failed.
Is it because the culture’s goals were inconsistent with improving the species on the individual and sub/cultural scales or was it because we are impulsive and still harbour nomadic/survival traits at all levels of living?
What is intelligent about living?
Do any states of energy have intelligence or is it only a matter of chemical/physical attraction repeating itself automatically?
How do I avoid the trappings of society – hoarding food, fame, wealth, etc. – while giving thought and action to the phrase “I want to live”?
treetrunkdings 