My mouth hurts. Wisdom is painful.

I think this mouth-hurting business is an yearly event in my date-book. Last time wisdom started throbbing was indeed around this time in 2010. I have learned to accept it as a part of life after, uh, how many years has it been? Three, may be four. I don't know. Definitely the number that starts emerging patterns. Five? And(!), takes you to a point of knowing, experientially, that (1) the pain is only momentary and (2) you can't fuckin' do nothing about it, so shut up and keep dancing! Like a period, you know. First few years are a part of learning. Being miserable. Crying, making faces, and yelling 'mommy'. Eventually you experientially learn that (1) the pain is only momentary and (2) you can't fuckin' do nothing about it, so shut up and keep dancing! Or like a heartbreak. I don't know about you folks, but love isn't forever. Neither does it happen only once (Shahrukh Khan is a liar!). The first time your heart shatters, it takes a long, long time to mend. Took me 6 years. I was 16. Each time after that is probably as painful and depressing as the first, probably more, but having been through it before helps you learn, experientially, that (1) the pain is only momentary and (2) you can't fuckin' do nothing about it, so keep dancing, baby!

Going back to my wisdomy-ness. I really can't do anything about it. Knife is not an option. I don't trust people with knifes, especially if there goal is to use that knife upon me. People are humans, man. Humans are like you and me. We make mistakes. Hell, I'm reading this book that encourages making mistakes. Says that's the only way we learn. True. I agree with the book. And I chose to make the mistake of experiencing wisdom on a yearly basis.

Book Recommendation - Being Wrong: Adventures in the Margin of Error by Kathryn Schulz. 

TEDTalk here - highly recommended!

Something must've happened when I was younger, unborn, or another human. This knife-fearing business must be coming from somewhere!

In other news: I fear sleep. In the fear of getting too much sleep, I end up depriving myself of it, to eventually fall down and snooze for 10-12 hours. I see the problem. I see the pattern. However, I'm too fearful to figure out what to do about it. Getting into bed is a problem. Getting out out of bed is a problem. And it's taking a toll on my productivity, and physical and mental well being. "Help, I need somebody." -Beatles.