…doesn’t mean it is. Here’s some total blather that I pounded out on my keyboard this morning. See, we watched Finding Forrester last night, and I had to try to “PUNCH the keys!!”
The result sounds pretty high-falutin’, but it honestly has nothing to do with anything.
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To be awash in a sea of doubt is only half of what it means to be human. The other half is finding some scrap of bark that you can float on, be it another person, a lonely idea, or a cause that you can pretend to believe in. As long as you’re not alone, even if your only companion is entirely imagined, your courage can rise to meet the crest of any wave. It is in this manner that a lonely individual, un-propelled by wind or engine, can find themselves washed onto the shores of greater imaginings than any they had dared to conceive in their conscious and waking, clock-watched moments. And in the pound of foam and the rush of tide that deposits them on that sandy beach of ideas which they were unwilling to acknowledge when they thought they had control over their lives, they will find a treasure greater than any they had previously imagined: the courage to stand alone. Whether they remain alone or not is immaterial; if they once set down that bark and journey into the dark and cool swaying shade of the jungle of thoughts, and think something original, unsanctioned by the gulls or crabs of the public opinion, there they will have found their fountain of youth.