thoughts are trees.
yes, I really think they are. I´m blaming these trains of thoughts on The Solitaire Mystery, which I re-read a few days ago.
so I´ve rather unintentionally, yet carefully developed this theory during the past few nights, lying in my bed (yawn) and I´d really like to share my thoughts and hear other opinions on that!
I think thoughts are like trees in our heads; complex, dendritic, ever-growing. they only ever fully make sense to ourselfes. whenever we try to share thoughts it´s like we´re trying to paint a mayestic tree with a few, wimpy strokes. we have this idea of a thought in our heads and other people see a stick"tree" (...Platon is my middlename...). they can take this image and complete it inside their heads but it´s never going to turn out identical to the original thought. am I making sense? even now I´m presenting vestigial branches. :/
does anyone ever think of language as a curse? wasn´t there some other, more accurate way of letting people interact with each other?
I could go on and on like that forever...
speaking and/or writing can be as frustrating as drawing. well if you don´t have mad skills like Da Vinci... or Jostein Gaarder!