Venus as a Boy

I realised that I say 'I realised' a lot. Two things are on my mind today - memories and the nonexistence of destiny.

Let's tackle the first item - memories. I tried to research brain usage percentages and ended up shutting down my whole right brain and the computer; too much contradictory info. So I better wandered around the realms of imagination and figured out there is this archive room somewhere with all kinds of stuff - there are languages we only use when needed, birthdays of people we see sporadically, the key to the hula-hoop domination, recipes we swore to remember while watching cooking shows on the telly, the exact location of Pierre Marcolini, and, of course, a lot of good smells.

There is also a box called 'handle with care' that... well, we all know what it contains.

The usage of the brain can then be compared to a librarian with thick-framed Prada glasses and tattoos all over (yet none of them visible). The librarian makes sure that we do not go where we don't want to and that with the years and the practice we manage to remember the good things and smile at the bads because they have already passed. There are times when the librarian falls asleep and BANG! there is 'Venus as a Boy' and you remember everything about ArtBoy, flavour of the tears included.

I really don't know how it works. A month ago I was very close to an amazing gal and it was so sad to see her go to Panama that I put her in the 'handle with care' box and now I have troubles remembering why was she so important. Amazing how one's brain can surprise one-self.

So in conclusion, I use 50% of my brain to go around without hitting stuff or dropping things (that clumsy I am), 20% to earn a living, and 30% is the punk librarian who decides what moves my heart and what doesn't.

And here's my diatribe on destiny - it is bullocks. We build the path by walking on it.