Hmmm. There was a guest speaker in one of my classes a couple weeks ago who, digressing way into the stratosphere for some reason, began talking about what it would be like to live as a tree.
I found this rather interesting as it just so happens that that is something that I myself contemplate from time to time. I'm not sure why. Something about the complete absence of responsibilities or something.
But then I suppose there're a lot of very fun things that a tree never gets to do.
You know, I guess I'm as boring as a tree. I came to the realisation earlier that I'm very, very boring. And even though that's been something that's frightened me for a lot of my life, it doesn't really bother me now. There are a lot of, shall we say, tree-like benefits from being boring.
Y'know, I've always preferred solid coloured neck ties to patterned ones. I wonder if that's a boring preference to have? From my own point of view, patterned neck-ties are boring.
Is this digression boring? Is this entire journal boring? Y'see, I don't think so, because I keep it up.
Which is an important point . . . No matter what you think you share with other people, no matter what or where you think you're doing, all joy in life is a form of masturbation.
I defy you to argue against that.
"And I'm so worried about
The baggage retrieval
System they've got at Heathrow,"