Sometimes I write things, and then I read them over (a few minutes, or days, or months later), and my response is, “What in God’s name was I talking about?”
Here is one such recent example:
“I definitely believe in the world; on balance, I think it’s a good thing. And I am into fellowship as well. I like nature, or at least I like certain aspects of nature, like flowers and shooting stars and naturally-occurring Fibonacci sequences.”
Here is another, unrelated one:
“Whoever said history was boring knew nothing about Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.”
What do I mean by this?