A Soliloquy; Read and Be Amazed.

Can you spell mahogany?
Yes, but only with spell-check. Without spell-check, I would be nothing. I would be lost and doomed to stumble blindly about in a world of swirling mist. And if I stumbled about in a world of swirling mist I would be unable to see. Unable to find things. Which would tend to upset my delicate mental balance. I already can’t balance. It’s a shame, but it’s the truth. Maybe this is why I am afraid of heights? I also can’t open things—except for jars; I can open jars commendably using merely a combination of those sticky, grippy, jar-opening things and my God-given brawn. And perforated edges. I have a love-hate relationship with perforated edges. Who, I wonder, invented perforated edges? Who invented the word perforated? Noah Webster? Or is it Daniel Webster? One’s an orator and the other the dictionary-maker but I can’t for the life of me remember who’s who. Which is better, words or music? Words encompass everything, but music is so other-worldly. This question has been tormenting me for quite some time. This is the second biggest philosophical question of my life. I think it’s kind of neat how God has wired us to want to know. It shows how we’re made in His image. He knows. We yearn to know. There’s a parallel there. Parallels are pretty fabulous things. Like King Lear and Gloucester (pronounced gloss-ter, it has recently been determined. Actually, I’m not sure if it hasn’t been determined erroneously. Maybe it’s glouce, like louse. Hmm.). Being a director is tough. I feel bossy. When I was in elementary school, being bossy was like the worst possible sin you could commit. Where do these random memories come from? Why do certain smells trigger certain memories? My soap that I have now reminds me of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. I couldn’t tell you why. Why does sugar taste good and algae taste bad? Algae has much less fat-potential. Why do my thoughts take so many strange digressions? Or is digression the correct word? Digression seems to have a negative connotation. The word connotation brings to mind Mr. Collins. Why have I not accomplished something with my day. Oh, dear, I forgot, my fish (Selkie) is in a temporary home waiting for the water to turn room temperature. He’s probably uncomfortable. I feel bad. I’ve got things to do, so I’ll stop now.