100,000,000,000

That’s a pretty big number, I suppose.

Apparently,

that’s approximately the number of neurons in the human brain

and

the number of stars in our galaxy

and

the number of galaxies in our universe.

Now, I’m all about respecting coincidences,

but

I’d like to entertain a synchronistic thought today.

If I am-

we are-

conscious

with 100,000,000,000 neurons:

thinking and thinking about thinking

and thinking about meta thinking

and so on.

Perhaps, may I posit today,

those same electric signals which sit in a three pound pink-grey lump

may have connective similarities to stars

or galaxies.

While the synaptic distance is very small,

and the distance between stars is great,

there is still information transfer within each set.

A galactic thought

would likely look no more than

slight ripples of photonic,

electromagnetic

perturbations

years in the making,

but those would reach out

and perturb others

years from now

too.

What would a galaxy

slowly

think about?

Searching

for a topic

to write about.

What is that thing called?

When you have too many choices?

So you don’t make any?

You stare at the rows and rows

of cereal

forever.

Decision paralysis

I think

or something like that.

It isn’t that I can’t think of a topic to write about,

but that there are just too many

to choose from.

I wonder if that’s why so many writers

talk about writing,

“I’ll just write about what I am doing: writing.”

A meta-choice

instead of a real one.

I’d love to write:

A Treatise on Stoicism – A Nobody’s Thoughts on Eudaimonia

Chapter 1:

Nihilism is freedom.

I’d love to write:

Fuck Coal: An environmental engineer’s tale

Chapter 1:

I fucking hate coal, and why you should too.

I’d love to write:

Hate Mail to a Capitalist

Chapter 1:

You’re a bad person, Mr. Capitalist.

I’d love to write stream of consciousness verbal spew that flows from electric hiccups through fingers to page to universe

with semblance of form

yet none.

And so on.

Decision paralysis.

Love,

Nick

On Writing

I think that I would like to write more. I used to write, frequently.

But

then I got married and I found

that I no longer needed

to write

which had been something I did to explore my inner self.

Now that exploration is shared

and that’s a beautiful thing,

but I’ve recently felt called to writing

once more.

Not because I feel I need an outlet to explore my inner self

but

because I used to enjoy it

and I feel that I would enjoy it once more.

So here’s to trying an old thing

renewed.

Love,

Nick