I should be doing homework but . . .

Sometimes I wonder if I will die old and alone in this apartment. It's not so much a fear as it is a thought that I find myself pondering from time to time. I imagine how this place would look after living in it for the next fifty years. I've always related to that reclusive character in stories. You know the off the wall hermit who is never understood in their own time but decades or centuries later even, after all of their journals are read, is considered to be a genius or the ultimate visionary? A woman needs her dreams. Anyway, between the book that I am reading about the the role that our consciousness plays in the universe and the passing of a dear family friend, my mind has been preoccupied with questions about life and death - mostly death. Not just the average inquisitive questions but the kind that take all of your beliefs and turn them upside down and inside out. I actually enjoy this process, for the most part. It keeps me on my toes and helps me to understand things. Some people may believe that asking peculiar questions and seeking out their answers is the same as lacking faith, but I think that just the opposite of that is true. How else can you understand the arcane without diving straight into the unknown and finding your own answers to your own questions? Doesn't that actually take faith? Our minds are so amazing, why would anyone settle for a blanket answer to life's toughest questions and why would they fear any theory or fact for that matter?

On a lighter note, after a year of keeping myself "off the market" (I really hate that term) I'm definitely ready to start dating again . . . definitely. It has become increasingly obvious that I have way too much time on my hands.