I titled this blog with a "randomly" generated series of characters because I'm not going to advertise it. It would be great if it turned out that some woman came across this and we got talking about stuff that mattered and fell in love and lived happily for a while, but this isn't a John Green novel (yeah, I occasionally read one of those. I still feel like a hopeless-romantic teen sometimes. Also, there's no limit to how much you can put in parentheses in the middle of a sentence. Pff.), so for now, I'm just going to use it for bits and mindspills publicly in the vain hope I do find some interlocutor to write long , philosophical letters in style of old. Also, not every long sentence is a run-on.

I was feeling cluttered earlier, so I lay down, because most of my favorite thoughts come to me when I'm horizontally oriented, in hopes it would settle. I got thinking of metaphors for life, of all cliche things.

Making your way through life is like making your way out when you're lost in the woods: pick a direction and keep moving in that direction. Or is it like building a pyramid to see over the trees first, so you know where to go? Should you pick a direction and stay true to it, burrowing through stone like a river, moving sideways if you must until you find a way forward, or build up a foundation of knowledge ever higher to reach the sky? Is there anything to reach? Is this, what we have now, what we're stuck with, or is there something to find?

I'm not religious. I don't believe there are any gods or heavens or objective points to life. But I want there to be something worth finding.