Not eaten by a Manticore.

Moving right along . . .

William James writes in The Varieties of Religious Experience:
"The human mind, with its diffrent possibilities of equilibirum, might be like a many-sided solid with diffrent surfaces on which it could lie flat . . . As it is pried up, say by a lever, from a position in which it lies on surface A, for instance, it will linger for a time unstably halfway up, and if the lever cease to urge it, it will tumble back or "relapse" under the continued pull of gravity. But if at last it rotate far enough for its centre of gravity to pass beyond surface A altogether, the [mind] will fall over, on surface B, say, and abide there permanently"

What I am currently experiencing, to extend the analogy, is a repeated nudging from some outside force. In addition to what I would call "hints" from the universe, I experience an urging from without that I am nearly convinced is on some level physical. Dare I hope that the dodecahedron of my experience is in imminent danger of revolving and coming to rest in a new position? I beg of whoever it is that controls this sort of thing to cease subtlety and gentleness. I desperately crave a new expreience, one that includes release of the love that is consuming me for want of any deserving outlet.

And fuck you, cherished reader, if you don't care for my writing. This is how I really think.