At worlds end - the less profound

I blog absent epiphany. I've had cumulatively over 24 hours of sleep this weekend, hence my feeling of success. And yesterday when the world was meant to end I wenT to bed early with a glass of red wine and assortment of chocolates having proclaimed that the Lord would wake me up when it was time.

The world ended yet again, and left us lesser gods with the aftertaste of disillusionment. I don't question my faith but I always wonder what can drive a man so far from logic, the answer eluding me from it's sheer simplicity. Humanity is not logical, and our decisions are rarely based on the dictates of reason but rather the urges of our mortal selves. Even those of us who would wish to be bound by the parameters of mathematical perfection constantly defy our better judgement by conforming to innate barbaric urges. To be human is to be flawed, and to aspire (or even assume) to be without flaw is the ultimate delusion of grandeur.

It would appear that epiphany follows the first keystroke, rather than precede it.

I realized the common thread that goes through all the characters in the Selected Seven, they seem, for the large part, to traverse the tenets of emotion to which we are all so invariably bound. Have I made sense? Perhaps not.

Random thought, - those stick on hooks, you know the kind you get from a supermarket and stick on your kitchen or bathroom wall to hold a hand towel or suchlike? Yes, that one you're picturing. That's it. That's all. That's the random thought. Random, huh?

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