Psycholgical Spanish

Tonight, a million things have entered, and exited, my mind. Some thoughts were, introspective, others used to realize just how good life can be, but for the most part they are incosequentially random. As you read on, I have to remember to drop off my absentee ballot before my trip. Thought number one million and one.

Hard to imagine it is now 2:18 in the morning, but it is. These thoughts, all of them, seem to share a common purpose, culminating in Darwinian, super nova, self-psychotherapy. They have evolved to understanding I don't spend enough time evaluating myself. Honestly.

Let's face it though, honesty is clad in bias, especially regarding oneself. Often times, to our own detriment we over analyze; leads me to believe the answer isn't near as important as the question.

Prevailing answers merely but a product of the process, I ponder love, and parenting; wonder if any of the stewardesses will be hot, but fear they won't. In my experience, two dollar Dr. Pepper mixed with $6 dollar whiskey always seems to taste better served by one fairly easy on the eyes. That same knowledge leads me to believe that Mile High Club fantasies, will surrender to You Would Have To Be High Club reality. Odds are, Barfbag Betty might reciprocate that same thought. One million two.

Crap, now I'm thinking of other people thinking. A million three.

I think of school, my place in the world, friends-new, old, and in some cases both. Reminds me, I need to send an email. One million and 4.

My guess is I will never truly know the answers, even understand them fully. What I have managed to draw from this Naches de No Sleepo, is that reality is but a figment of our imagination. Being ready, willing and able to submit myself to the normalcy of randomness affords me comfort. In the end, knowing that comfort makes me think (number one 1,000,005) that everything is bueno.