A Rambling About the Purpose of Breathing and Mashed Potatoes

Welcome back to A Stream of Random Thoughts, where I will use a random word generator to generate a random word. After which I will say whatever crosses my mind!

Doesn’t that sound like fun? That sounds like a ton of fun!

Aren’t you EXCITED?!

(Can you tell by my tone that I have once again done WAY too much homework? I’m doing this while I’m trying to figure out my physics in the back of my head. It’s somewhere back there. It just has to emerge as the correct answer.)

So today’s word is…

…

…

SNIFF

 

What a wonderful word! I was thinking today, as I was walking down the hallway of my school, preparing to acquire more homework (aka, go to class), that some words are pretty because of what they mean, like bunny or happy or clover, and some are pretty because of the way they sound, like grotesque or ubiquitous or arbitrary.

bunny. happy. clover.

grotesque. ubiquitous. arbitrary.

I AM SENSING SIMILARITIES BETWEEN THESE WORDS.

My mind has exploded. You peeps must be wiping brain matter from your computer screens. Because that’s how it works. My brain explodes on THIS side of the computer, and my brain matter ends up on THAT side. (Look how connected we are. We’re friends. *Warm squishy feels*.) If only it worked like that. Then I could just reach through and steal all the cookies you guys bake without me. *pouts*

My brain is a mush. Bleh. Blech. Blah.

Blech is my favorite.

Has it occurred to you that I haven’t talked about the word sniff yet? So I was planning to go back around in a giant magical circle, but I got sidetracked because, with only slight exaggeration, my brain is a LITERAL MUSH. Bleh. Blech. Blah.

I’m breaking all the grammar rules with these fragment sentences and run-ons and WeIrd cAPitiliZAtions.

Hold on, my friend is texting me about the physics. She said my lab report was fine the way it was. She’s the second person who’s told me that. BUT I LOVE TO WORRY.

Well, back to sniffing. You sniff— I forgot about the magical circle!

Okay. I had to go figure out more physics and help Scorpion with math homework. But I’m back! And so is the magical circle.

But then I left again to wash my hands.

At this point, you guys probably think that the magical circle is way cooler than it actually is. It’s not. I hate to crush your hopes and dreams. I was just going to say that sniff is not pretty at all. It doesn’t mean a pretty thing and it doesn’t sound pretty either.

Sniff, in my opinion, is a rather annoying sound. That great inhalation. The even worse exhalation that comes afterward. Why do people even need to breath? That constant exchange of breath. Yeah, I just breathed in the air that was just INSIDE YOUR LUNGS, random stranger that I’m sitting next to on the airplane. I hate airplanes. And don’t even get me started on sneezing.

I’m just generally against most bodily functions. Blech.

Am I spouting weird mind-thoughts, peeps? My brain is a literal mush. Mushy mushy mush. Like a caveman mashed potato. You, dear reader, might be questioning the random caveman thrown in there. I am too. I don’t know, that’s what my brain decided to think when I actually meant MASHED POTATO. I pictured a mashed potato while I said a caveman.

That’s right. Welcome to my brain, where a mashed potato is a caveman.

How do you mash your potatoes, dear reader? (I always spell potato wrong, in its singular form. I always add an extra e.) Do you buy the boxed powder? Do you imagine the potato as the head of your enemy and aggressively throw it off of a tall building? Do you wash your hands thoroughly, imagine the potato as the head of your enemy, and destroy it bare-handed?

Do you, dear reader, believe that I need more sleep?

A Stream of Thoughts

Hello peoples!

You nonexistent guys seemed to like the previous rambling, so I shall make another one!

This time, the word is…

FLUENT

Hmmm…

I’m learning Spanish right now. Can’t say I’m fluent or even good for that matter. I’m okay with writing it, but quite terrible at speaking unless it is pre-rehearsed. But what kind of person rehearses a conversation? And unless that conversation was with oneself, one could not even truly rehearse something because one wouldn’t know what the second person would potentially say. Unless it was a play, but that is not a conversation really, is it? Is it not a conversation because it is pre-planned?

What makes something a conversation?

Also, is this considered talking to myself? Well, I’m not really talking, I’m typing. And it’s more thinking. So, therefore, can one think to oneself? Or is that just plain thinking? You can’t really think to someone else because that would telepathy, which doesn’t exist outside of the fictional world.

But what if this is thinking to someone else? Because I am typing as I am thinking these words, which means that someone will read them and see what I am thinking.

But that hypothetical reader will read it in the future, not as I am writing it, so then it’s more of leaving a note. Sort of.

I am confusing myself, I will return to “What makes something a conversation?”.

(Was that period supposed to go there? Do I need it? Or is it supposed to just be “‘…conversation?'” with no period? But now I have to keep it like that or else the nonexistent readers will have no idea what this thought is about.)

I am confusing myself, I will return to “What makes something a conversation?”.

The definition of “conversation” according to Dictionary.com:

informal interchange of thoughts, information, etc., by spoken words;oral communication between persons; talk; colloquy.

Hah. It says spoken. But I can’t remember what I was originally trying to prove. Hold on, I have to go reread it.

So a conversation is a conversation if it is spoken. So that means reading a script is a conversation. And Mellow Yellow is a conversation. But talking in the comments section with other bloggers is not a conversation. Neither is texting or emailing.

I refuse to accept that definition. When I text Spinette, those are conversations, even though they aren’t spoken. Because if they don’t count, that means Spinette and I have less than two conversations a month.

How do I change this definition?

When does a conversation stop? It starts when you meet someone new, but is changing the topic the same as changing the conversation? Or what if there is a lull in the conversation and no one talks for 2.364 minutes and then they pick back up? Are those two separate conversations or parts to one conversation? And if they’re parts, then is there a minimum number of minutes between parts that dictate the end of one conversation and the start of another? And if there isn’t, then is the moment from the initial meeting with a person the start of a conversation that continues on forever until one of the two dies? And if so, does that mean that Spinette and I have only had one conversation ever?

I’ve pressed the question mark key a lot. Does that mean that when I think, I think mostly in questions? What is the nature of thinking about thinking? That is thinking in itself. Can you think of thinking of thinking of thinking for infinity? It’s all thinking!

Do people from different places think in an accent? Does thinking even have words? This is all relating back to Babies: Some Random Thoughts.

I’m going to stop now before all this thinking blows up my brain.