Snow & the subconscious

I'm sitting in London watching the snow fall. A bit of me thinks the snow is wonderful. It is soft, it is white, it looks beautiful when it settles.

A bit of me is watching it with dread.

I'm meant to be leaving in about an hour to drive to Oxford to hand an essay in, and then this evening the plan is to drive up to Birmingham for riksowden's birthday and then ksirafai and I are meant to be driving back to London for the rest of the weekend. I've driven in snow before. I know it's evil.

I'm also in an odd and comtemplative mood today. I'm pondering a lot of things, which don't really even make sense in my brain yet. Does the subconsious really exist? Is it possible to do something for reasons that on no conscious level you are aware? Or is the subconscious just a word we use to describe the bit of our brain which we don't always admit to?

I've been pondering that since yesterday.

Ach. I may try and think about such things less and about Byzantine ivory more.

Snow & the subconscious

I'm sitting in London watching the snow fall. A bit of me thinks the snow is wonderful. It is soft, it is white, it looks beautiful when it settles.

A bit of me is watching it with dread.

I'm meant to be leaving in about an hour to drive to Oxford to hand an essay in, and then this evening the plan is to drive up to Birmingham for riksowden's birthday and then ksirafai and I are meant to be driving back to London for the rest of the weekend. I've driven in snow before. I know it's evil.

I'm also in an odd and comtemplative mood today. I'm pondering a lot of things, which don't really even make sense in my brain yet. Does the subconsious really exist? Is it possible to do something for reasons that on no conscious level you are aware? Or is the subconscious just a word we use to describe the bit of our brain which we don't always admit to?

I've been pondering that since yesterday.

Ach. I may try and think about such things less and about Byzantine ivory more.