A bottle. Yes, I'm gonna go with that.

Let me be honest to you guys.

I'm feeling kinda lost.

This is a problem.

'Lost', here, means not knowing how to reach your destination.

I, meanwhile, have deliberately tried NOT to have a destination.

So, the 'fact' that I feel lost means that I feel there's a destination or goal I have to strive for.

I must have done something terribly wrong.

Or, perhaps, that I have successfully turned into, say, a bottle.

(By the way, 'problem' is usually defined as a condition having deviation(s) from the ideal, and 'this' is usually not defined at all. The subject of the second clause of the previous sentence is, to me, an example of the subject of the first clause of the previous sentence. The previous sentence, meanwhile, is essentially the same as the third sentence of this article/post/rant, with 'to me' added.)

Ta.

An intense blast of chocolate powder.

Now that you all know this place,

I've got nowhere else to run.

Nowhere else to turn.

Nowhere to hide.

Nowhere to cry.

Nowhere to scream in silence.

Well, probably a good thing. Perhaps I'll just go inside myself.

Or, alternatively, stop doing the aforementioned things.

Which?

Let's save that question for later, shall we?

This.

Skipped church again. Naturally.

Yes, mates, instead of going to church I was re-stringing my guitar. I think I'll call her Cortana.

But instead of chattering about reasons why I did not attend the Sunday service yet again, I think I'd be better off writing about pockets and how they came to be.

Pockets are (usually) small, empty spaces incorporated into a piece of clothing, and is used for keeping things we are too lazy to carry with our hands. A pocket might have one or more buttons or a line of zipper or perhaps strings to alter the size of its opening. Other methods have been used, but the ones mentioned above are among the most popular kinds.

There are several theories as to how these additions to garments evolved (it is highly unlikely that the first clothes-makers already have that pressing need to carry trinkets without their hands which is very much present in today's life).

First, it was theorized that an early garment-wearer discovered a tear in his/her clothing, then, through an unfortunately misguided attempt of mending said tear, accidentally made a rudimentary pocket. As with most new innovations, this generated a lot of ridicule and mockery among the mender's peers, which only stopped after the mender demonstrated a significant increase in foraging returns.

Another theory was that pouches or bags are originally the conventional tool used for keeping things in. Then one day, a clever (or bored) innovator had the brilliant notion along the lines of 'I'll just stitch this pouch on to my loincloth, let's see where that leads', which leads to roughly the same amount of jeering received by the mender in the previous theory.

A third theory stated that a person saw the need of carrying things without using hands, thought about it for a while, and came up with pockets as the solution.

The third is the theory upon which the least number of hit movies was based, meaning that it's probably the most accurate.

I haven't used a rotary phone in quite a long time, if that helps.

'This is the Life' by Amy Macdonald

Hi there! Forgive me, it seems that nearly all my posts start with some arbitrary greeting, such as this one. I mean, my friends' blog posts seldom feature any, especially the emotional ones or those (attempting to be) inspirational. It's not like it's a necessity, right? Hypothetically, you could just jump right in and start the day's rambling nonsense. But somehow I always happen to find it necessary to open said rambling nonsense with another, smaller nonsensical item of writing. Which does not make a lot of sense, but there you go. Having said that, here I go.

A (sort of) funny thing I noticed.... um, no, on second thought, never mind that, I jumped to a conclusion.

....Which reminds me of The Phantom Tollbooth, which is one of my favorite books. I have mentioned this before, haven't I? But since I'm not here to write a review, let's continue.

Where is here, anyway? I'm currently sitting in a fast-food outlet located at a certain crossroad not too far from where I am currently residing. I was here originally to do a certain assignment, but since we - that is to say, my friend and I - lack the information necessary, that highly commendable goal remains just a goal, and as I happen to have some other assignments that I really have to do, it naturally means that I simply must find a distraction to keep me from doing those, so here I am now. In short, I might very well be the world's worst - or best? - procrastinator.

I'm pretty sure there's a Family Guy episode which mocks writers writing in public places, but what the hey. If I went home right now, I would've played Dragon Age: Origins instead of doing those assignments anyway, so no (additional) harm done.

But I am out of ideas, so apparently I'm going home after all.

Hello, Thedas.

Part 1 of an unspecified number.

Greetings.

For those of you interested in reading about what I am up to recently and/or currently, read on. Otherwise, just skip to the end, where this thing will... end.

"Doing the same things year after year and expecting different results has been used as one definition of insanity."

The statement above, for those who are interested, I took the liberty of quoting (quite) directly from the first or an early chapter of the 2006 edition of a book titled Make Winning a Habit, which was authored by Rick Page. Quite interesting, I thought, when I read the thing. (Incidentally, the exact reason as to why I was reading such a book at that time is best left unexplored, at least for the time being.)

However, the reason why I thought it was interesting can indeed be safely published, and the reason is this:

The statement would reflect my life quite accurately if every instance of the word year were replaced with the word day.

I mean, the statement implies that one set of conditions can only lead to one consequence, which is basically what makes the scientific method works. Pretty much set in stone, inarguable.

Or is it?

Personally, I believe in the concept of function in the mathematical sense, which is explained above. I believe that we can recreate any situation, provided we know its cause. I have no objection to the concept.

Which leads us to the inevitable question, as posed in the statement by Mr. Page, on the matter of my sanity.

Am I indeed insane?

Of course, all problems of the above statement(s) can be reconciled if we accept the fact that we do not know all the variables in the function, thus preserving the possibility that one set of initial conditions (as we perceive) might lead to different consequences, but that is a bit too mature and perhaps too sane for my tastes.

And that does not answer the question of my sanity.

This is nearly the end of this post. For those of you who tried to skip to the end as I suggested, thank you for taking the suggestion, but this is not quite the end yet. For those of you who read the whole thing, I have nothing further to add. For now.

End.