Be the Hippo

Wow. I'm starting to worry myself with all of this non-blogging going on. Is there something wrong with me? I've been tired a lot lately, especially after I wake up and before I go to bed. Is that unusual? I have a tendency to black out between the hours of 12 and 7 am. Its strange. I wonder if I really remain motionless in my bed the entire time. I suppose its just as likely that last night I gazed into the night sky and watched as the atmosphere was struck by a wave of cosmic particles, causing the forest around me to burst into flames a moment later. And isn't it just as likely that my girlfriend met my brother last night and they really really reeeaally hit it off? No? Its not as likely? Woosh. (interesting how my mind conjures up apocalyptical nitemares and dreams of Fern making out with some other guy during the same night, as if both are equally terrifying)

For selfish reasons, I just finished reading all of the blogs that I've written to date. I want to discover what sentiment compelled me to write each one. Once again, I'm engaging in an exercise of self analysis. Interested in origins as I am, I want to explore the origins of my own thoughts. I know that they arise from emotion. Its the moment in which emotion is shoved into its packaging (worded thought and script) that I want to place under the microscope. In that moment we find sentiment still true and pure. As sentiment is broken and manipulated to fit into the various words and sentences of language, it looses much of its impact, its meaning, its "soul." Music is something that can reverse that deconstructive process. So is visual art. And ironically, so is writing when words and sentences are beatifully strung together by talented authors.
Here's something. In our lives we metamorphosize into children and young adults capable of intelligent thought but who have become less adept at feeling and expressing as we were when we were purely emotional creatures (fyi, babies). I believe that there is a third stage to this metamorphosis possible if we realize that "language" is not the most complete or true form of expression, and that because our thoughts are channelled through words, we are somewhat detached from our emotional selfs. We often can't undertand why we feel a certain way--we confuse ourselves--because we are not fluent speakers of our own emotional language. Our feelings sometimes hold messages for us to interpret and respond to intelligently, yet more often they stand on their own and require nothing but appreciation and acceptance. The third stage of development occurs after we recognize that we are not fully developed emotionally. Like I said, greater intelligence (like the intelligence underlying great literature) and enhanced creativity (allowing us to refamiliarize ourselves with our emotional selfs) are the keys to making it through the last personal transformation. When there is perfect harmony between what we feel, what we think, and what we express; when those things are done in a more intense, skillful manner; and when we're able to be highly emotional creatures who are extremely free (requiring hightened intelligence and awareness) in both thought and action, then we can finally say that we've _______ (place analogy involving a coccoon and butterfly here). Think of the last scene in the Dark Crystal. Our goal is to become those long white divine spirits that rose out of the crumbling castle... Ok, that's just plain silly. Moving on...
About the whole finding the sentiment at the heart of my blogs thing. I'll start doing that in a seperate blog. Thanks for reading.