strangereality139

Tired of writing about pet subjects - my apparent obsessions with the times of day, with the local supermarket, with the local supermarket checkout girls, with buses of course (mustn’t forget buses), and with the state of my own alleged ‘mind’ all add up, I think, to a mental illness in-and-of-itself - I am delving deep for something fresh to write about, something I have never written about before. There is nothing going on currently that I have not written about before, so I have looked into my past. They do say (whoever they are) that the past shapes the present. I do not believe this myself, holding firm to the esoteric view that there is no such thing as the past, only a perpetually changing present moment that can be thought about in different ways, just one of many possible ways being in terms of a continuum called ‘time’. (I have written previously about this world-shaking truth, this completely objective, entirely rational truth that only seems outlandish and/or plain silly because it is contrary to our habitual ways of thinking about reality - so I won‘t bang on about it again.)

Thinking about the past bores me, though, both for the reason above and for the fact that I started this piece not really wanting to write about anything, and have just decided that I will finish it that way too.

[And tBlog is down again. Is there a more unreliable site anywhere on the Internet? I doubt that there could be. I am soon going to up and move to another site. If I could just recover the pre-April 2004 archives, of course