A Stone

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom the emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand wrapped in awe, is as good as dead —his eyes are closed." -Einstein 

Sometimes I wonder if it is indeed possible to be smitten with a thought, concept or idea. To be so wrapped in awe with something so highly intangible, yet know the feeling all at once. I don't know, but I do. 

Lately, life has been one giant paradox rolled into a mist of car crashes, pregnancies and births, robberies and beatings. People in my life one minute and out the next. You know, just everything that comes with your twenties. Numbness. It's developed all within the past year like nothing I could have ever imagined. To think such an emotion has been derived specifically from interaction between myself and the friends I've called coworkers at a tiny little franchised coffee shop on the corner of Montgomery and Bush. It has allowed me to cope without crying every other minute or seek the help of medication or a professional. I do manage to poke my head in the clouds and wonder every now and again, which somehow keeps me grounded. Stress. Depression. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it, I somehow seem to keep it tamed at one point or another all with the help of my little friend I like to call sleep. Whatever exists at this point. 

The dreams have been a tid bit rough as of late, but it all makes sense given my current situation. Hamsters with bleeding eyes, stolen wallets and phones, conversations with Brendan Urie, and "human sacrifices" on muni--the whole shebang. Unconscious fragments forming complex reflections of a concrete world; my dreams. 

I think it's time to start a new journal, whether it entails dreams or not. Let's hope it doesn't get lost or stolen. And scene.