I had the urge just now, just before coming to the desk to write this, to lose myself in deep thoughts. I was lying on the couch on my side; my face was pressed against a lumpy square pillow such that one eye was forced shut and my remaining vision was monocular. I could hear guns blaring from a video game in the next room, I could taste the memory of Taco Bell with which I had “rewarded” myself after staying late at work on a Friday night. Amid such banalities what turned my head in such a direction as to wish deep thoughts upon my already over-taxed brain?
It was our TV that is sitting on the floor – that pathetic white little TV with the built in VCR. It’s still the only way that we can play movies, but we refuse to give it the place of honor, the seat atop the black stand where our larger but movieless TV sits. Our little Panasonic, sitting there on the floor. When I was lying there on the couch, my one eye obstructed, I was positioned at just about the perfect viewing level for this little TV. It was turned off, that is, it issued forth no pictures or sound. Instead I stared at the place where our cheap plastic TV meets the cheap, plastic carpeting. Something about that line made all of life feel heavy. What does it all mean? The thought flashed briefly in my mind and I wanted to want to ponder it. I wanted to get lost in thoughts so abstract that I could write about them someday. But instead I got up from the couch and came here to write about wanting that.
The wanting can be enough. Get off of the couch. Polymer weekend, begin.