Complex machine

There are some days where I am a passive observer of the lives around me, peacefully amused at the array of idiosyncrasies I witness as they play out. Each one of us an actor in our own melodramas and comedies. The human experience is beautiful chaos, and we are but mere notes of a chord in the orchestra of infinity. There is a magnitude to the melody in which we find ourselves, as if every step were precisely laid out to a harmony of peace.

I probably do too much thinking, and not the thinking that means I am some deep intellect. As of late I have discovered that I have a severe god complex. I am not a megalomaniac, because I have no power to boast of. I have an obsession with knowing how things work, will work, and should have worked. It would be fair to argue that perhaps my brain is that of an scientist or an engineer, these are archetypes that seem to fit that mold. However the inquiries I ponder consume me at times, as if I will not be satisfied until I have answers to questions I don’t even know.

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