Speculated Speckled Pickled Eggs

[Personal note for myself. Feel free to skip.] I have no idea what's going on. I see and do not believe. I feel and make no record of my skin contact. People have wants and needs and I cannot discern their logical connections. Logic makes no sense to me. The sun does not shine. Clouds do not exist. Yet, I define my day by the water falling from the sky that blocks the sunshine.

I am me. I have no capability to be more than one person. Better yet, I do not want to be more than one person. I actually want to be me. I like being me. I like me who likes the person who likes being me.

RNA is ribonucleic acid. A right turn is a coordinated series of actions determined by a football coach who teaches the staff to teach the players to stand in place until the play caller takes a ball and turns to hand the ball to the person willing to run and get hit. Recombinatorial, or some such.

People are willing to ski and play tennis. Physical coordination.

A large number of living beings have the same set of genetic material that is turned off or turned on in a particular sequence. God's blueprint or random observation by the current species to which I belong? Both? We see what we believe. We believe what we believe we see. Plate of shrimp. Pine-scented car freshener.

I belong to nothing. I am not nothing. Therefore, I don't belong to nothing. Absent is not the same as present somewhere else.

A drop of water flows along a pine needle hanging from the gutter. The drop stops at the end, formed by surface tension and stretched by gravity. Another drop flows along and pushes the first drop off. Nothing is as I just described it. A drop of water does not exist. A pine needle does not exist. A gutter does not exist. Gravity is in my imagination. Instead, I just saw a spherical magnifying glass, a solar energy collector and a trough for collecting debris to grow tree seeds, all in the recesses of my brain.

Sober, sanity and madness. Like diving into a mountain stream in winter with no way to get warm. Idiocy for idiots.

I stand alone by myself, shoulder to shoulder with the rest of my species, words my clothes, paragraphs my floor, away from here and nailed into my shoes. "Mommy! Mommy! Why am I going around in circles?" "Shut up or I'll nail the other foot to the floor."

A worker at an eyeglasses factory fell into a vat of molten glass. He made a spectacle of himself, didn't he?

I am one person. I am happy being one person. How important is my happiness? Does happiness exist or have I made myself believe in happiness?

Somewhere I read where religious belief is directly tied to one's brain and the need for deep social interaction. Social intercourse, if you will.

If I have learned the steps to complete a task, excel at repeating the task, should I perform the task again and again? The pursuit of perfection? Not for me. I am looking for novelty.

This universe is not just about my species but my species is all I know. If I ask questions and get answers from the universe that run counter to the existence of my species, where does that put me if I will never be other than a member of my species? Should I avoid the questions if I don't have an idea what the answers could be? The absence of self is close to the absence of selfishness which is close to the absence of my species, is it not?

I do not exist. If I do not exist, who or what is writing these words and seeing the intensity of light vary with the passing of dark shapes in the sky above me?

I choose to ask questions because I want to see myself from another angle, even an angle that includes the absence of me or the non-necessity of my existence. Like bashing my head with a rock or flogging my back with a whip. Only less messy.

I am me. I will always be me. I am also you but today I need to see myself as only one person so I can see the parts separate from the whole and better determine how to strengthen the power of the whole through the belief in the presence and the absence of the self.

I don't enjoy keeping quiet. I like transparency so that when a thought occurs to me I let it go out into the world without thought of impact like it bouncing back to me in some other form hours, weeks, months or years from now. If I have a thought, someone else had the same thought. If I express my thoughts in words or speech, others will hear what they thought they thought but may not have thought or spoken.

We get so wrapped up in our day-to-day activities, which we believe with conviction are what we're supposed to do, to hell with others who might have better things for us to do, that we lose sight of where we are. No matter how much I think I see our species from the right angles, I miss what I should see or should do. I'm not out to change the world. I'm here to see what our species could do if we changed our points of view. I don't care which particular points of view others have - they may be right or wrong for their time and place. I don't ask that they look at my point of view. I can only see what one person sees. I'll always be me.

I like me. I like who I am. I like my species. I like what my species likes. I don't like what my species dislikes but I'm willing to see the point of view of a disliking person because only then can I see if there's a like hidden in dislike that I should like.

These words do not exist. These are just electric, magnetic, particle-wave-speculated, speckled pickled eggs laid by a drop of rain splattering on a bed of wet tree leaves. Everything else is in your imagination.