Escapes

I like to post my eureka moments on here. Helps me keep track of 'em.

I've found which possessions truly matter to me--those that give me an escape of some sort.

I realized in thinking about my car. Then about my bed. Then about how both of those things are important to me. I was all amped up to write about just those two things, but that led me to ponder on my books, and my music-makers. I couldn't bring myself to write that these didn't matter. But on furthering the thought, they just cement my point.

The things I like-- the things I've always liked all my life-- were escapes from this everything.

It was/is literally an escape from the body in which I am encased.

I've never heard a more solid argument for the existence of souls.

Why do you like what you like? Maybe it's for the same reason and maybe it's not.

Maybe we all go to the same heaven, and maybe our heaven is our own heaven.

Maybe we are all uniquely similar and perfectly distinct.