I was just travelling back in my Uber and this thought crossed my mind again. Just how it has so many other times, it came back and hit me like a rock in my gut and I sunk into my seat, yet again. A thought about how we love and how we manipulate ourselves to love. I've always had this idea in my head, but when I saw Inception, I could find words to describe it. " Cobb : I can't stay with her anymore because she doesn't exist. Mal : I'm the only thing you do believe in anymore. Cobb : I wish. I wish more than anything. But I can't imagine you with all your complexity, all you perfection, all your imperfection. Look at you. You are just a shade of my real wife. You're the best I can do; but I'm sorry, you are just not good enough" This is what hits you. You, all your life keep expecting things. Out of people, out of your work, out of yourself, out of everything! Because you have an idea about the thing, the person, the occasion.
Theories. Thoughts. Short stories. Poems. Economics?