I’m riding my motorcycle, having just pulled away from the stop light. The day is cool and overcast, and the clouds are bright in the creases, as if lit by a day-long lightning bolt. The gentle hills to either side rustle in the light breeze, and I can easily imagine the flies rising like pollen from the riotous tangles of grass. As I snap-nod my flip-face helmet closed and lean into the highway on-ramp, my mind begins to wander. (more…)
I think about how to use the things at hand. It’s kind of like this but for tools and equipment. It happens with skills as well, but much more rarely. My psyche is more focused on possessions than personal powers. Of course, being a young man, a lot of these hypothetical scenarios involve using whatever is at hand as an improvised weapon in some sort of violence-driven cinematic sequence.
In any case, I’m often rather startled by the incongruity of the speculations that come to mind. I’m going to start posting these under the Delusions of Grandeur category. Hopefully these missives from my imagination will prove interesting and worth reading, in keeping with our high content standards here at Isqua Istari.
To add some content to this article, here’s an example. (more…)
Some like to sweat. Some run for fun. They like to run in the hot hot sun.
I do not like to work this way. If I must run, I’ll run away.
Instead I like to learn and think. I like to think and think and think.
And when I think, my thoughts, they stink! But when they don’t, I use some ink. (more…)