The Band Bus

I've noticed my posts have become horrifyingly vain as of late (to say nothing of infrequent). That's not to say I haven't pursued the unknown. It's just, my profound ideas are like big bubbles. I can chase them through the fields as long as I wish, but as soon as I go to catch it, it bursts. Sure, I can catch the smaller ones, but it's the big bubbles I'm after. While I sit on my bed, looking at the stars, I chase trains of thought so profound and deep, they kinda surprise me. I reach conclusions that make life lighter. Of course, they burst as soon as I go to write them down.

I've thought about tape recording these thoughts rather than write them down, but most rides last for the briefest of moments, like little thoughtgasms. A second or two of light and clarity, then back to the unknown. The unknown's a lovely place to be, though. Anything's possible. Things we think are beyond the realm of possibility one century are done in the next. Laws are only relative to the times.

How then can we discount anything? The greatest revelation we can come to is the revelation that we know nothing. What I find humorous is that one of the greatest debates, science vs. religion, is about how to know the unknown. It's all just quite silly. They are two sides of the same lollypop. If the two sides would just stop arguing with eachother, they'd come to find just how similar they really are, and who knows, maybe this vast, seemingly infinite realm of the unkown would grow just a little bit smaller. Of course, the more we know, the more we realize we don't know, and that's really all that life and reality is: a great, big silver question mark.