Somehow the most enjoyable of nights always seem to wake one up with cephalgia of sorts. Why so? What is it with the human psyche and a constant need to alter things? Be it our hairstyle, the colour of our nails, the positioning of a line on a piece of paper or even our state of mind.
While there are a handful of people who panic at the thought of change and see it as a bad seed planted in a field for the sole purpose of wreaking havoc, others live off it. The mere thought of discovering something new injects a form thrill into the spinal cord. It seeps down into the soul where it finds a place to rest and get to work. It gets a person going, provides a sense of anticipation - What will happen next? Where do we go from here? - A form of apprehension slowly musters up at the back of one's mind, enthralling, enticing to the point of enamour. However with it an inquisitional sense of expectation bulbs and blossoms, piercing it's way through all other thoughts like the roots of a thick, overpowering tree- Will this time be as good? What if it isn't? What if I remain the same? What if I don't feel?
The thing about individuals who crave change is that they generally lack the overall feeling of fulfilment which the vast majority appears to appertain to. This, in turn, causes an avidity to divulge in extemporaneous expeditions. Decisions made ad hoc, thoughts blurted without remorse, ideas expressed in the search of something abounding. A superimposing sense of superficiality pushed to the back of a train and buried beneath a piping pile of steaming coal.
The lust for conviviality- What shall we do about it?
I leave you with this. A post somewhat reminiscent of what one may have found on my previous blog. I shall update it, take down a few things and perhaps link back to it once again as I wish not to leave certain hypotheses on this one.
V.
