I doubt I could survive complete and total understanding. The more I think about things, the more questions I have. Just following that line of thinking makes me wonder how far it stretches. Does it get smaller and smaller as it travels outward, eventually disappearing into a blank stare, or maybe culminating into a head scratch.
So, which is more vast, the seemingly endless supply of galaxies or the unknown, which I find goes on forever and then some. For example, if I were a single atom, vibrating about within a note sung by Luciano Pavarotti, there would be no possible means of escape except to continue traveling along the projected course, even after the orchestra has cleaned their instruments, drained the spit valves and gone home for the night.
It could be that the
human brain is shaped as it is because it hasn’t a beginning or an end. It is closer to being round than anything,
which causes thoughts to continue circulating.
Why do I enjoy opera when I haven't a clue as to what they're singing about. They just seem so intense that I feel I should allow myself to be enveloped by it. I wouldn't even mind hearing Placido Domingo sing, Another Brick in the Wall. But I've gotten off track.
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