I don't know why I blog

john | Nov. 13, 2020, 9:33 a.m.

I really don't.  I mean I guess it's because part of me just feels like writing.  I don't talk to too many people, so this is sort of my way of expressing myself.  And when I do talk to people I generally don't say much, I just listen and ask questions.  I don't feel my life is anything but ordinary, although I guess it is rather spectacular.  I mean it is life after all, and I once heard that all the dead wish for is to be alive.

Not even sure why I feel the need to express what it is I'm thinking anyways.  It's rather futile and meaningless.  Among other things I also don't care if anyone even reads this, nor do I expect anyone too.  It's almost like talking to yourself in the shower when no one is in the room.

Feels nice.

Although, I guess from an outsiders point of view, it might look a bit foolish.  A man just rambling about nothing.  Could be soothing I suppose, the distraction from your own thoughts, into the world of some one else's. The liberty to lose yourself, and end up in the imagination of someone else.  If it's a well enough written piece, it might even spark an emotion, or a laugh.  Maybe even chuckle. Unfortunately, that's not what you're getting today.

You're stuck with this, a rambling.

There was this one time I was just sitting there looking outside, and I imagined a squirrel.  I'm sure there was probably a squirrel near by, but I didn't see it, so I had to imagine one.  Granted what I imagined I don't think any squirrel would do, at least currently.  

It held a concerto.  It walked on stage, this imaginary stage, and started to conduct one of the most amazing pieces of compositions ever imagined, by pigeons.  The rats of the sky.

As they flew and frolicked through the melody of his rhythm, it all started to fall into place.  I would say I was escaping what ever it is I was doing to enjoy this, but in reality I had nothing to escape, I was sitting in silence with company.

Not sure why it was a squirrel I imagined either.  Probably had something to do with the fact that another time I was sitting in silence, I saw an actual squirrel trying to get some from some other squirrel.  It actually managed to score.

The simple things in life. 

Now I probably shouldn't even publish this, I mean for all it's frankness it's simply yet another waste of space.  Although it is a space that I enjoy wasting.  I guess one of these days I should write something of value or sustenance.  Perhaps even of use. 

I'd probably be getting ahead of myself at that point though, as most things I say lack value, and are too light to have sustenance.  Yet here we are.  It's almost like reading a bad book, you keep turning the pages in hopes you will find that nugget of wisdom.

But alas it wont come, I will instead just torture your poor thoughts with more fluff.  Not because I want too, but because I feel I must.  Why I feel that is unknown to me, yet I keep writing.  I could go down some rabbit hole of why or how you could do something, but that would be no fun.  It would simply be literal.

Plus the poor rabbit would probably be upset you are in his hole.  He would probably scream some obscenities to us anyways for intruding in it's hole.  How would we even make it down this hole, I'm a human, and most rabbits are tiny, so I guess it would have to be some sort of hybrid rabbit human hole.  I also don't even know your dimensions, what if you're a giant, or a spec.  Would it even work, or would the hole collapse on it's self by us just being in it's presence.

Would the rabbit even be a he? Could be a female rabbit you know, which would make the intrusion that much worse.  Not because gender plays any role in this rabbit hole, but because rabbit holes rhyme with foes.  Which the lady rabbit would definitely consider us.  So I guess it would be best to go down a manhole instead.

But the acoustics wouldn't be as good for the squirrel concerto.  What a pity, because that reality was starting to pigeonhole me.  Then again it's easy to throw anything into a hole.  The problem turns out to be catching what ever you threw in before it unrolls.  Thankfully we got rock and roll instead.


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Welcome to the world of Johnathan Nader. Here you will find writings of various things. I will try to stay on topic on some, and digress in others. If you want to know more about me

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