i bet everyone had one of those moment, when one word by someone can trigger a whole stream of thoughts, you never originally thought about.
Friday evening, a phone call with my former Pharmacology doctor and one question, had sprung a trail of thoughts and wonders from the deep fissures of my frontal lobes, “i know you like PDF-copies of books , so i’ll send you one” he said, ” but how do you know that?” i forcefully asked, ” well, i always see you reading them on your phone” , “well i don’t” i stated.
if not, which do you like then?”
though his question was merely about whether it is a PDF or hardcopies of books that i like more, but it sent me on a road trip to Lala land and the mystical wonders of my inner persona, which do i like really? , i asked myself, how can one expect people to have the right image of oneself if one fails to illustrate the right one originally ?.
detoured from my main self dialog ,that question jump started a new one, i remembered a conversation i had with a friend the other night, he read my previous blog post (the red fever) , which had some indoctrination of self-fulfillment, and had lead him to ask me, how can someone know his true self, know your flaws and leverage them i said, think about one subject and align your principle to it, we were facebook chatting yet i could feel him sigh, i knew i should stop the exhortations and simplify my understandings to him, think of smoking i said, do you believe that smoking is as bad as labeled to be?, he answered solemnly with strict approval, is that really what you believe, not what your family believes, not with your friends believe, not what i believe?, “yes” he said. that’s all it takes to know your true self, just to know what and what not suits you, and you should have a fair try on your way to discovering that, because determining the yes and no part of your answer is really what will set off your emanation.
i checked my phone wondering if my doctor is still on the phone after all of that day dreaming, well! he wasn’t he must have hung up at one point there, and i wasn’t yet quit awake. i wondered of the thing that can prove to me my true self, with my eyes i scanned my whole room, they say a room always speaks of it’s habitat, there were books, techs, sketches, gifts, makeup, candles, bags and a tread mill, okay then i’m a weird character! what else?
during my scan, my eyes set shore on a book i had since my childhood, one of my first books actually, (reflections of middle years ) it was called if i got the shabby writing right , not a typical book for a child to have, it was talking about fulfillment and the journey of a middle aged man towards finding his ultimate self, and as so those day dreams has always been familiar whenever they are brought up, and as so i never seized dreaming.
while grabbing that old book from my bookshelf, it’s texture nostalgic, and it’s sight reminiscent. hard-copies i whispered i like hard-copies.