Critical Thinking and Me.

I read only what I have to or what interests me. College reading has become a tedious and terrible undertaking. The eyes are not what they used to be, nor the mind so pliant. I don't normally put myself into situations where I must critically think. There is much room to groom. I inherently analyze everything, however. I think I know what I know and I stick to my mental strengths and safe zones.I prefer to manufacture my own reality and have become quite edified in delusion. I care not for others perceptions unless I perceive them to be destructive to themselves and others around them and yet I am oft oblivious to my own incongruities. Perhaps I need this class to point the magnifying glass inwardly in an effort to re focus the accuracy of my outward projection of thought and words.

I have spent most of my life being mentally sedated. Not by substances or some self administered malfeasance, but rather by sheer and utter laziness. Perhaps in pessimistic moments, I feared the destination to which my thoughts might deliver me. Other times, I found the "natural" progression of ideas proposed to me to be calculatedly burdensome and manipulative. I chose cerebral activities that provided me a shelter from ambitious proclivities, perceiving instead some thronish laurel perhaps more suitable for treatment of rectal prolapse resultant from gratuitous exertion.

I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in
And stops my mind from wandering
Where will it go.
I'm filling the cracks that ran through the door
And kept my mind from wandering
Where will it go.....

If I open my mind, let loose the shackles I have long cynicistically imposed upon its faculties and truly contemplate, will I not be sirened into its toolings and snidefully embrace my angst with clever tonguings?

Ok Im done with the Thesaurus...that was like trying to use a shotgun for a chisel.

I think writing is communication. I am always leery of "Why" someone is telling me something. What they may want as a result as opposed to what they appear to be conveying. In the hopes of becoming better equipped to understand, comprehend and experience communication I will open this door. My weak suit is organization of thought and continuity of  relevance. Another level of thought plainly cloaked in pertinence would give me more hope that those willing to wander through my drabble might more poignantly and focusedly read between the lines.

Boom-Boom! Fires Chisel again, (It grows real dull, real fast that way)...

The truth is I hate reading, love talking and shy away from thinking. I have become very satisfied with my thought process. My verbal and written productions, however, are not so well received. I have no censor button but catastrophe. No buffer, no filter and no off switch. In critically think about this, I can't help but come to the conclusion that I am uncomprehendable at times and this furthers the thirst to be heard, which I quench with more words and seemingly meaningless metaphor.

Then again maybe I am afraid to say what I really mean, preferring instead to mask content in a way where I can sarcastically say, you thought thats what I meant, if it becomes uncomfortable or coyly wink when someone actually gets it. I could, perhaps, fancy myself way smarter than I actually am and used to people to stupid to figure it out. I certainly find myself amusing and love to see how people react to what I write. I'd hate to learn to think critically and lose my number one fan. Maybe a healthy learnin' would make me think my own speak dull and I'd desire outwardly for knowledge and understanding, never again to be satisfied with the cage my candor has become. Maybe my words would start to make sense to people. I'd feel it. I'd be still...

I've always been really good at finding myself in the right place to say something. the priests of old and magicians of yore used mnemonics to actuate the energies of God and Nature in concurrence with the meeting of mind and will. They did not waste words..and they knew when and how to listen.

I wanna be special...I wish I was special ...