He who writes carelessly confesses thereby at the very outset that he does not attach much importance to his own thoughts
Would you find any offense at the above statement? Maybe instead you could relish in it – relish in it with me.
What use are these thoughts? Writing is a way to expunge it all, and maybe arrange the medical bags into a show where the blood glows from some backlight.
The truth is that these aren’t my thoughts. Nor the thoughts of yours wondering if they’re your thoughts.
These thoughts just appear and maybe you could petition there’s a free-will in the selection; even though free will often renders itself most likely in chains-of-band-of-many – a collection of agents scrunching together a modicum of normalcy, thus comes the typical grimace smile to the neighbor while picking up the paper.