As much as I love to get amused, or should I say astonished at all the new things I get to know; sometimes I ask myself, is it better not to know too much?

I have seen people who love to think, think about god knows what things; I can’t get my mind around those sometimes. They literally think all the time, no break. I’m not a person that does it often. Why, I couldn’t reach this conclusion either.

Maybe it’s fear. Maybe I’m afraid that it will stress my sweet little brain too much. That thought already stresses my brain out. Or maybe it’s just the good old anxiety. Maybe I feel that the end result of all this thinking will be quite pointless, even if not entirely, a little bit of course. Or maybe my thought process isn’t right. But is there any right way to think? That’s another question for another day. Guess I’ll get back to it later.

So back to early morning self-realizations, I don’t engage in meaningful conversations most days, consciously. I keep blabbering stuff around my people. And the honest answer is I get intimidated by people, people who can think clearly and of course speak what they are thinking in clear words at any given moment. As much as I admire them, I envy them too. There’s no truer statement than this. Man, they do know what they be talking.

Those who are gifted with this thing, whose brains are like magic boxes that don’t just shut down randomly, do they ever feel like they have achieved too much? Does it ever feel heavy on their chests? Guess I’ll never know.

The other day, I was watching the Oppenheimer. I was quite relieved in a sense, that I didn’t have any sort of inhuman thinking capabilities like that, in fact, nothing close to that. Somedays I go batshit crazy thinking very random stuff. How did the man, the myth, J Robert Oppenheimer spend all those nights of the rest of his life after August 1945?

Good morning, currently thinking about the father of the atomic bomb.