Streaming of the brain.

You know how if you squeeze your eyes tight and look at the back of your eyelids, rather than just black, you see tons of little colorful dots among the black? I used to think those were what made up the universe. They were these magical particles that you could potentially put together in certain combinations to make my eyelids, my eyes, or a LEGO set. Of course, I didn't know how to harness that power. I only imagined and wondered why it was that while my eyelids never changed, these dots flew all around, back and forth, with no pattern at all.

Now I know better, but I still squeeze my eyes tight and look in wonder at some of the little things that amaze me. Is there actually a pattern? Maybe, but if there is, it's unknown to me.

But then again, why do I keep bringing my mind to try and organize it, to make schema and then file it away as if I truly understood it? Because like so many other things, I do just that. And it's natural here now in modern life to want to explain everything. And you probably could explain what those little points of living light are in my eyelids, but even when I find out what they are, I just can't toss it aside anymore and say, "That's accomplished. I've found it, now I can move on."

Conquest. That's what that is. Near-cold-blooded accomplishment. But if you want the real cold-blooded stuff, you see it in humanity through empires seeking and seizing territory, through deforestation and wars. You pick it up, you take it, pat yourself on the back, and move on.