a consistent strain of detours...

i want to understand everything, starting with the ability to understand...

thoughts fuck up everything...memories are never the truth...we can't depend on our brains for accurate accounts of our existence...

so why, then, place so much stock in memories, and knowledge and thoughts themselves?

we run on chemicals and random electric impulse charges, yet we create these things called thoughts, that are neither tangible nor completely transferrable.

and where do they go, anyway? once you have created a thought, brought it into existence, birthed it in the most proverbial way, the moment passes and we move on to another, but where does that thought go? is it's life-span only as long as we decide it to be? are we playing god to our own thoughts? and what if nothing comes of that thought...was it's life made in vain? does it die out of an inferiority complex because it didn't blossom into the mature thought it was hoped to be? is it really useless, or is it's use being useless, so as to give the brain time to conjur, form, and begin birthing the next thought?

does any of what i'm writing/saying here have any real purpose or meaning? and if it does, is it because it truly does, or because you, whomever didn't stop reading past the subject line, has given it meaning and/or purpose of some sort or another?

thoughts are a slippery slope, and i find myself easily lost along the way...

=e

(dis)owned...

i can never be the person
that i was expected to be
and i can only
apologize
so much
sorry

=e