Ignorance

Eureka! I finally figured it out. Who hasn't had a moment like that? Where you're almost ashamed that you couldn't figure it out sooner. In my case, well, I really should've known before. I kind of did know, I just couldn't put a name on it. Now I can.

Someone very famous once said "Ignorance is bliss." Even if they were only famous because they were the one who said it. I think it's a crock of bull. Ignorance is ignorance, and there's nothing blissful about it. It's agonizing. What you don't know tends to torment you until you do know it.

You know what? It's ok. I was starting to get worried that it was something scary, disgusting, or disturbing, the way you were talking about it. But it's not, it's just... a thing. And I don't care. It doesn't make any difference. None at all.

If parts of the preceding rant don't make any sense to you, that's just fine and dandy, you weren't supposed to understand them. It's just me thinking out loud, into a keyboard.

As always, song lyrics. Ta-daaaah, the inspiration for my name. Daydream Believer by the Monkees.

Oh, I could hide neath the wings
Of the bluebird as she sings.
The six oclock alarm would never ring.
But it rings and I rise,
Wipe the sleep out of my eyes.
My shavin razors cold and it stings.

Cheer up, sleepy jean.
Oh, what can it mean.
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.

You once thought of me
As a white knight on a steed.
Now you know how happy I can be.
Oh, and our good times starts and end
Without dollar one to spend.
But how much, baby, do we really need.

Cheer up, sleepy jean.
Oh, what can it mean.
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.

Cheer up, sleepy jean.
Oh, what can it mean.
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.

Cheer up, sleepy jean.
Oh, what can it mean.
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.

You know those songs that you physically can't not sing when you hear them? Maybe I'm the only one who has such compulsions, and that may well be a good thing, a lot of people I know are bothered by the sound of someone singing. In any case, Daydream Believer isn't one of those songs for me, it just has nice lyrics. Personally, for singing/screaming at the top of my lungs while engaged in some perfectly benign activity like cooking or washing dishes, I'm partial to broadway soundtracks. If you walk by my house around dinenrtime, don't be surprised to smell dishsoap, and hear my voice over a recording, "They had it coming, they had it coming, they only had themselves to blame...".

Today's random question, what makes a person a person?

Keep Dreaming,
Daydream Believer.