The dichotomy that is experience and reason

    Having woken up at one in the afternoon, I must say my brain cells feel thoroughly recharged after pushing them to work until six in the morning. Ah, the joys of vacation.

    I was supposed to write on a topic, but now i'm replacing it with something I find more interesting at the moment. I wrote something before sleeping a while ago, mostly to try to at least capture a few of my sentiments on the topic before I sleep. Why? See, I have a problem with ideas. Once I get them into my head, they branch out and blossom into new avenues faster than vines or Wikipedia sessions. However, once I do something else (in this instance, sleep), the idea instantly retreats back into its hovel in the backyard that is my subconsciousness. I know it's there; I just forgot the password to get it back. And there's no security question to save my derriere. To quote my seven hour ago self, I remember my topics, but somehow the lucidity and acuteness of my sentence structures and inadvertent aphorisms get waylaid enroute to the blogging fingertip neurons into the subconscious junkyard.

    The problem with experience and flashback is that they're a tandem that you can never put together in one sitting, yet they're also a tandem that you must apply to get the most out of your life. Well, at least to me that is. Experience is the sight, the feel, the taste, the smell, the sounds, the emotions that encompass a moment, swirling into one tasteful concoction more potent than a bucket of espresso shots. Flashback, on the other hand, is the crash and burn hangover that follows every drinking spree; while I've never experienced one myself, I'm guessing it involves denial, realization, and comedy. Which draws us to an age-old debate: is the flashback the product of experience or vice versa? Well, not much of an argument there, since anyone will counter with the fact that without an experience, there's nothing to flash back about. However, what is an experience that you don't look back upon? It's ignored, buried deep in the recesses of your brain. Useless. It's a two-way street with U-turns at both ends, I guess. You can never have one without the other; experiences give you the moments, flashbacks give you the capacity to turn experiences into moments. Confusing, eh?

    So what I'm saying basically is, to use a Wikipedia method to explain it, is that the experiences are the entries, and the flashbacks are the fleshing-out text (citation needed). Each experience is filed in your memory cabinet, ready to be pulled by yourself to be reevaluated with all the harshness of an accountant on a Toffee Nut Frapuccino Venti with two Espresso shots and Vanilla syrup. Yes, the Starbucks references. I got my mom and dad (well, supposedly.. I ended up giving it to my brother) planners as their Christmas presents. It might not be the smartest thing to give, financially, but it made them happy and I wouldn't look back with regret. Although some of my entries, on the other hand, I look back with much chagrin (especially my last two, with one sounding didactic and the other sounding fanboy-ish). But that's the deal with experiences; the only time you can change them would be when they're still in your head. I'm rambling now, huh.

    Ohwell, best to get back to the real world. The asphalt jungle beckons. 'Till next time.