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In my Neverending quest for sanity, I tear apart paper after paper (virtually), take vitamins, exercise, see myself as a cruel abstraction of some Supergod (imagine an ant under a gigantic magnifying glass), and wake up day after day, week after week, year after year, decade after decade and (perhaps), lifetime after lifetime and…

I don’t get it.

But every once in a while I find a piece of a puzzle in the morass and scoop at it frantically, shoveling my hands through the sand on a beach, dropping the clue only to see it sink further and further in the many grains of filler…the red herrings…trillions upon trillions…no… that won’t do because there is always plus one more…

Even a four-year-old knows there is always “plus one”.

But what is a LOT when there is no perspective? How many grains of sand must I claw at when they are little or insurmountable or NONE OF THE ABOVE?

Oh, I’ve strayed from the topic I never started: the human imagination.


Probably not just human but whatever mechanism exists (or doesn’t), that focuses energy and makes something out of nothing and does it over and over and over again…must be something special and that’s a pattern I’ve picked up on in this life.


Toys that stimulate the imagination are and always will be a hit because they exercise – beckon – the IMAGINATION. Books; the more descriptive (which the discussion of is why I’m writing this)…we are DRAWN…

COMPELLED…by that which makes us wonder….and think…



Published by ldinlove

I am an eccentric blogger and artist. I used to live off-grid, which makes for some great stories. :)

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