The Joy of Thinking

I would venture to guess that 100% of conscious (and functional) humans have, on occasion, entertained thoughts that they would, by no means, consider sharing with anyone else, whether they be shameful secrets, despicable desires, or perverted tastes.  I insist that deep down within each of us exists a despicable little pervert just waiting to bring shame upon you during a weak and vulnerable (drunk) moment.

Don’t worry: you’re not alone.  We’re all a little sinister.  And if Rule 34 serves as any proof, we’re all a little perverted too.

But you should take a small amount of pride in the absurdity of your thoughts.  Even if you know better than to act on terrible ideas, the fact that you have them provides a sense of depth and color to your character, because it allows you to glimpse through a window to a universe in which you did act on those ideas.  And since you can see yourself in that alternate universe, you have a vague idea of what it must feel like to have committed such a breach of the social code, and thus you can plan your life accordingly with a proper since of pride for the righteousness of your restraint, as well as a proper sense of empathy for those who are foolish enough to engage in shenanigans, whatever they might be.

Your perverted, despicable thoughts and ideas make you a better person, because they make you a more complete person who is better equipped to deal with psychologically adverse situations (and I insist that being a complete person is more important than being a happy person, but that’s a different post for a different time).

When I moved to Texas in August, the stress of establishing a new foundation in a new place made me miserable for about one week.  You can only take so many trips to WalMart before losing your mind.  But after I got through that week, I feel like my life has been amazing.

I have very few friends, no family, no real social life, and I don’t get out much, and yet I’ve been happier than I feel like I have been for years.  Here is why: I have time to think.  Before, in my life as an Angeleno, I was never alone.  My stream of consciousness was broken before it was started.  I was constantly doing things, talking to people, going places, and that precious reflection time we oh so yearn for was gone from my life.  I feel like now, I’ve been sorting through a six-year backlog of ideas, and suddenly, I’m a complete human again.  I’ve been composing music faster than I ever have; I’ve been writing more short stories than I ever have; it’s fantastic.  I feel in tune with myself.

…that is until about two weeks ago, when something horrible happened:  I was sitting in my bedroom, and five minutes went by.  I realized that, in those five minutes, I did not have a single thought.  Not one.  My mind was completely empty.  And since then, that emptiness has been pervasive – a theme that occurs every so often, maybe once a day, or every other day I’ll catch myself not having any thoughts, as if I’m a fleshy automaton.  It’ll hit me when I least expect it: looking at a draft or a word processor, and suddenly my creative momentum halts mid-sentence.  I’m writing less.  I’m composing less.  I’m still happy, but I’m also becoming neurotic.

So ultimately I’m writing to say this: of all the despicable, perverted, and otherwise shameful thoughts I’ve ever had, nothing is as horrible, or rather nothing torments me more than not thinking at all.  It’s when you think nothing that you lose the voice that makes you a human being, and what are we worth if not our consciousness?  Your thoughts are the only thing no one can ever take from you.  Cherish all of them.


About Doctor Quack

Just another bonehead with an internet connection.
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5 Responses to The Joy of Thinking

  1. Like the tone in your blog. This particularly resonates. I live a very isolated life, despite having sons and a husband whom I cherish. I spend long periods alone, trying to think. It makes me feel terrible when I can’t have reflective time. I’d love you to visit my blog
    I think the future lies in human beings being more collaborative and less individualistic. blogging opens up dialogue in a great way I think.l YOu take care now.

    • Doctor Quack says:

      Hi Monika (I’m pretending that’s your name based off your blog name). I’ve been a little overwhelmed with all the traffic I got from being freshly pressed a couple weeks ago, and I’m finally just now overcoming my neglect to go through the comments posted. Thank you for posting.

      Sometimes I wonder myself if isolation is the key to happiness, but on the other hand, I too get lonely when away for too long from the judging eyes of others, and perhaps collaboration is the key. After all, one person may not be able to build a house alone, but with ten friends, they can build a house and all have shelter.

      I look forward to reading your blog.

  2. Isn’t it interesting though that Buddhism and meditation advocate surmounting your thoughts? I’ve been attempting to understand exactly what they mean, and although the verdict differs it seems they see enlightenment (ultimate peace) as detaching from your thoughts. A study of Buddhist monks found that in deep meditation, only the center of their brain showed activity, vastly different from the majority of us whose neurons crossfire constantly. I really don’t know what’s better- calming down the hectic brain and giving it a break or embracing its craziness. Maybe it depends on the day.

    • Doctor Quack says:

      Considering how at ease I know the one buddhist monk I happen to know to be, he might be onto something. I took meditation courses once, and they tried to get us to think only of our breath – to feel only our breaths. If we thought about something other than breathing, the instructor said, “That’s okay. You are free to think if your thoughts escape your breath. Slowly bring them back when you want to, and bring them into your breath.” Otherwise I guess we would’ve panicked and thought, “OH GOD. I’M THINKING. OH GOD.” and it only spirals out of control from there.

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