Eyes only see half the picture, brain makes up the rest, that's why no one really knows what you see, we all assemble our own, lines and patterns, make assumptions, brain short cuts and says that's a chair, or that's a hairy monster there.
When I try to think about how I think, it's like typing Google into Google, or trying to paint your own hand or brush. It causes a shiver along the scalp, hairs bristle nervously.
New connections make us happy. The more creatively we think the less depressed we're likely to get.
Feelings occur everywhere around the body, in the hardened gut, the wobbly legs, the tapping restless hands, it's not all just heart or brain, it's every bit of us, an amazing machine, mostly water, and eventually one day we stop, and no one knows where we go.. but we've been replaced by ourselves I don't know how many times.
Our lasting memories are the amazing thing, every time a memory comes it's a photocopy - less accurate - you change it by remembering, that's why something hardly ever, or maybe even never, remembered when it comes back out is clear as day, sharp as sunshine compared to all the other sentimentalised smush we have in our heads...
If you only read one book for the rest of your life read "Proust was a neuroscientist" - it's the source of alot of the above thoughts, I'm reading it during the breaks in volunteering at the moment, and not even half way through. It's great.
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