Thinking

Greetings and welcome back to The Un-Zone, the semi-regularly updated site on the Internet devoted to all things related to Un. Or at least stuff that this blogger finds interesting.

I spend a lot of time thinking. You do this a lot when you have several hours to kill between classes and you've already solved the New York Times crossword puzzle in seven minutes and pretty much every other crossword puzzle you can get your hands on. That and you've read the local newspapers, the USA Today, and the Times. And you've done that all before your first class at 8:30 in the morning.
I don't know. It's kind of nice to just sit in a chair and let your mind wander. I've spent many hours in my own little mental fantasy world, which might explain for a lot of things. OK, to be honest, a whole lot of things. But I can change, if I have to, I guess. Maybe not.

I've just come up with the most obvious thing ever. It's one of those things that you finally realize, thinking its the most profound thing ever, but everyone else you know came up with that idea years ago. You're always the last one to find out.
You'll rarely (I hesitate to use the word "never" as "never" could possibly happen) find me ultra-happy. The "what controlled substance have you been taking" type of happy. To put in more cliched terms, the "walking on sunshine," "flying higher than a kite" kind of happy. It's a rare thing. Even rarer, if this happiness is based upon love. You'll rarely find me talking about "really great girl I met" or "dating" or any sort of thing involving relationships.
On a related note, I find it amusingly disturbing that I find it amusing when I think about what it would be like if I were in such a mood. Not that mental illness runs amok in the familial gene pool, but it could be a possibility. Or I just have an odd mind in my head. On another related-yet-unrelated note, it could mean that I'm a genius, as those with superior intellect or talent in an area like music (think Mozart or Van Gogh[yes, Van Gogh is a painter]), tend to exhibit odd quirks. They also tend to have other less-desirable tendencies (depression and the particularly nasty habit of self-extermination [not that I have such tendencies]) which lead to cut their chances at reproduction short.
In other words, I don't need alcohol or drugs to exhibit strange behavior. My mind has the ability to act unpredictably, sometimes at unopportune times. Though when it does happen, the results can be creative, like comedic genius. I could just be manic and I need a trigger to set it off. I digress.
Sorry for another digression. I've lived a life where I've never gotten into trouble of any sort. At least with the law or figures of authority. I now have the urge to raise a commotion or a few ears. Must be the manic side of my mind. I digressed again.
If you ever happen to find me in such a state of over-the-top euphoria, something is terribly wrong. Most likely, I have been taken over by an alien-implanted device. It would be best to have a conversation. If, by any chance, the euphoria is love-related (i.e. "finding a nice girl"), then you can safely assume that the end of the world is coming. Or that's at least what I've been thinking about.

On a totally unrelated topic, something to think about. Economists have written an insightful article on the economics of prostitution. Nothing says "I love you" on Valentines Day than saying "Honey, you're a low cost provider for sex, at least when compared to a prostitute." This is, of course, not my personal opinion, but the opinion of the economists who wrote this article available in PDF (Adobe Acrobat) format.

That's all for now.