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Puddle

. . . imagine a puddle waking up one morning and thinking, ‘This is an interesting world I find myself in, an interesting hole I find myself in, fits me rather neatly, doesn’t it? In fact it fits me staggeringly well, must have been made to have me in it!’ This is such a powerful idea that as the sun rises in the sky and the air heats up and as, gradually, the puddle gets smaller and smaller, it’s still frantically hanging on to the notion that everything’s going to be all right, because this world was meant to have him in it, was built to have him in it; so the moment he disappears catches him rather by surprise. I think this may be something we need to be on the watch out for.

– Douglas Adams

In case I haven’t made it clear before, I love Douglas Adams. Puddle-thinking and all. Yesterday I woke up thinking, yes, today. Today I am gonna get a water gun. Nothing metaphorical there. And then I couldn’t find it, I spent hours trotting up and down tortury lane and the damn gun eluded me. I accepted defeat without much coaxing, which surprises me a lil. Two hours later I was having hot chocolate and sandwich, and the world seemed just like it was before I decided to get a water gun. Maybe even a little better, because I relaxed and laid back, because I took an unexpected turn, because I opened up a new eye, because I gave up control. Nothing revolutionary there, of course. I merely wondered about things for a while, like… choices and circumstances, and what if I had stubbornly pursued a water gun.

My existential crisis just got to a whole new satirical level.

 

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