So it is my search.

I have pointed out previously that I am a reader. But why? (No, I'm only asking myself.)

I am a reader due to the vast amounts of knowledge contained in written word. I've spent my life so far, all 18 years of it, learning, and I have noted that nothing can be worked with more as an information medium than language. It is an art form, a science, a taboo, and a religion. Its something all culture has in common -- whether that particular Mother Culture is dignified or not.

More often than not, I find myself confounded by the seemingly absurd nature of life. Due to this constant happening, I can no longer turn a blind eye to it. This would be one of the reasons why I am starting this on line journal: To complement my written diary of whatever I find. So far, in my physical compendium, I have summaries and synopses of a few works by Daniel Quinn, as well as the miscellaneous guide to strategy. I have also jotted down observations, thoughts, or ideas I have deemed useful. By useful, I mean something that may eventually shed light on a meaning, or a truth.

You see, I try not to do anything without purpose. To conjecture that this life may be purposeless is nearly painful to me. I know for a fact that there is some reason why consciousness exists (Just trust me). Since there has been nothing in my life except mere coincidence to back up this fact, I have made a relentless search for any sort of knowledge that I may string together to help unravel this mystery for me. A vain attempt? Perhaps. But I will only know that in the end.

Moving on.

I intend to use this space for much more than recreation. I will document personal theories, experiences, and conjectures from books I have read. I am currently tearing through books, consuming and comprehending at a very pleasing pace (Alliteration aside, astounding anyway). While I do not have much to document currently, it is because it is tucked away in my physical journal. Regardless.

I have just finished "My Ishmael" and had a time comparing it to "Ishmael" (Both are by Daniel Quinn). Both speak volumes on the injustices of this world on the planet, and on our own selves. We, as a human race, have caused destruction of our own people, our own habitat, our own knowledge, and if things keep continuing like this, our own future and existence. "Ishmael" raises this point, and does so with a poignant point that it is not raising any solutions. "My Ishmael", however, is a little more aggressive, and addresses certain quandaries in "Ishmael" and gives possible solutions for the Taker problem.

Tying them together is most gratifying, and using Daniel Quinn's own method, demonstrated and outlined in "If they give you line paper, write sideways" opens up layers in his books. 'Write sideways' runs with the information provided in his previous books and expounds on his processes behind the papers. This is done in 'real time' -- the book is actually a recorded conversation with a young girl that visited him to learn his thinking strategies.

I could go for pages on all the information unraveled in his books. It would be a waste to undo it all here. Instead, when I have nothing else to write about, I will unload it then, making new connections.

How I love a good, multi-layered book.