Imagine going shopping, and you’re hungry
You push along through the aisles with your shopping cart
As you see something that so moves you, it’s placed in the cart
When you get to the check out, you realize that you are going to have to explain what you’ve bought to the wife, and lots of things are removed, and a few things remain, and perhaps a few will be stashed in a part of the car that she won’t find until after you’ve eaten it.
This is what it’s like to muse about the meaning of things, especially things deep inside of me that provoke external responses like tears, laughter, or rage. Things in the cart, none of them stay or they all stay, but why limit possibilities until I’m done my musing.
Running Down Vimy 