I feel like I'm closing doors that are better left open. That's not a good trend. If only I could take a sabbatical. Of course, these are the type of thoughts that I should be writing down on paper and stuffing inside a bottle with the intention of throwing it out to sea. Instead I type these frustrations and symptoms of minor mental maladies down on a public blog. Is this a non too subtle cry for help?
I have started reading The Mysterious Flame by the British philosopher Colin McGinn. I have found in the recent past that reading philosophy and science takes my mind off the more troubling aspects of my life. I find myself concentrating on the complexities of the topic at hand, rather than dwelling on my blue moments and missed opportunities. Sometimes all I need is a shoulder to cry on, but then I find myself unable to summon forth the tears. I don't even think that one of my favorite tearjerker movies could cause tears to well up in my eyes at this point.