A Thought

I was sitting eating a bag of chocolate chips today when a thought struck me. Then I almost lost the thought due to it hitting me rather hard and almost rendering me unconscious. This was, of course, combined with the fact that I had only just recently returned home from a rather long and tiring shift at work. Under normal circumstances a strike from any thought--large or small--is barely enough to leave a mark.
Nonetheless, I managed to keep my consciousness somewhat intact, and I grasped the thought before it slipped away into the abyss of thin air and graced some other poor fellow with its presence.
I say some other poor fellow not because the thought is anything of dastardly or disgusting proportions, but because the thought is so extraordinarily subtle that if it weren't for the blow it delivers one would hardly notice or begin to interpret the thought. I do not mean to talk myself up by saying the following, but the thought is so subtly clever that it seems to think of itself as being something worth a substantial sort of note--more so than any other important thought, that is--and tends to strike harder than any other thought I have ever encountered before in the entirety of my life. It is on this that I base my logic which states that any other bloke to be struck by the thought would be a poor bloke indeed due to a probable inexperience of being struck by any thought at all, never mind an important one.
I apologize if my digression bores you, but I found(and find) all these things to be important when I was struck by the original thought, and so I can only assume they must be as equally important to any other person who intends to hear the thought as well--I also truly wish that the digression will lessen the pain and possible force of the blow that the thought will no doubt deliver once it has made its appearance in the mind of any unfortunate reader.
I believe we are at the point of which I stopped to read the nutritional information concerning the chocolate chips which I was currently stuffing down my esophagus at an alarming rate. This alarming rate was, of course, simply to distract myself from the throbbing headache which the blow of the thought had given me. At any rate, alarming or not, I was reading the nutritional information on the back of the chocolate chip package. I'm not quite sure why I was reading it, because I have no intention of ever going on a diet or setting a curfew on the population of calories and fats in my body, but I read it nonetheless. It was during the reading of the nutritional information that I had the latter thought, and this time around the blow was substantial enough to erase the previous thought about which I am supposed to be writing but seem to be failing horribly.
As it turns out, I have no miraculous thought to share with you, dear reader, and I must apologize that the reason for this is something as mundane as petty nutritional information on the back of a plastic package containing chocolate chips. It appears that you, faithful reader, are left with the disappointment of an unsatisfied curiosity. If it is any condolence, I not only experience the same dilemma, but I also have a rather bad headache and an upset stomach.

Creativity Paradime

There comes a moment in every person's life when an epiphany is in order. Some have small epiphany's concerning things such as how to solve a meal plan dilemma, and some have epiphany's which could almost definitely classify as a serious problem to keep an eye on on the richter scale.
Some are even lucky enough to have multiple epiphany's, and these folk are often classified under the, 'artsy' category of earth's inhabitants. Perhaps the most frequent, 'epiphanizers'--if you will--are author's and writers and the like. A good author will tend to have an epiphany every day, or possibly even more depending on the amount of time spent observing life versus the amount of time actually spent composing works of fiction.
These particular writers will often interpret their own epiphany's and beliefs into the numerous characters of their stories, and the genius behind the epiphany will be discredited by the readers to a fictional character which wouldn't possess the ability to breathe had it not been for the author.
This sort of situation occurs all too frequently, and many famous authors spend so much time trying to be recognized as the source of their many character's epiphany's and mindsets, that they eventually give up and decide to become alcoholics for the rest of their epiphany-filled lives. Though, it should be noted that the epiphany's become less and less frequent as the authors spend more and more time being inebriated than being anything at all.
Young, unpublished and unnoticed authors as myself, however, have not yet run into any such problems, and have the chance to be recognized for their epiphinatic--again, if you will--deeds before being betrayed by their loveable characters. It is in the composing of this piece that I wish to convey a recent epiphany of mine without having the glory snatched from me by the very characters I nurtured to life.
I was going over and revising one of my as-of-yet-unpublished novels for the trillionth time(this is something authors enjoy doing to pass away the moments of not yet being published. It's very silly but it works, and sometimes can even improve the original story), when I was struck with a sudden idea--no, this is not the epiphany--for a sub-plot in the sub-plot of my story's sub-plot. I furiously began to tap away at my keyboard, letting the idea pour out onto the screen before me.
After several moments I stopped, stared blankly at the screen before me, blinked twice, selected the paragraph I had just completed and hit the wonderful, 'delete' button on my keyboard with no remorse whatsoever, sending the sub-sub-sub-plot idea screaming away to the depths of idea's hell(sometimes referred to as writer's block, depending on the situation).
I slowly placed my hands behind my head and leant back in my chair. I had not blinked since the last two times, and my eyes were beginning to sting, so I decided to blink because it seemed like a good idea. It was, and I've continued blinking regularly since.
But I digress. The epiphany was that my own creativity had contradicted my own creativity, and that this was indeed possible. I'm sure if you go back and read you'll be able to make sense of this. I'm feeling far too lazy to explain in detail, and I could quite definitely go for a glass of whiskey at the moment.