First thought: Ever notice how the people who read and love poetry, write poetically? Are they drawn to poetry because they are natural poets themselves? Or do they become skillful writers after reading the works of others?

Here is a question for anyone who shall stumble upon this journal entry. How obvious is it, that I have read very little poetry in my lifetime?

Another thought: Why can't there be more hours in the day to learn? There are so many things I want to know. I want to read all the philosophies, theories, and medical facts that exist. I want my brain to be a sponge filled with knowledge.

Is knowledge intrinsically valuable? Is there a purpose to my drive to learn? I crave information like a junkie craves drugs.

But, I will die one day. And all this information stored in my gray matter will become dust in the wind.

Is that all we are -- dust in the wind?

If I could be anyone in history, I would be Bertrand Russell. He is my hero. He was brilliant -- one of the world's greatest philosophers, intellectuals, logicians, mathematicians, social thinkers etc..

Final thought: I guess I am just not a poet. I am a theorist. Would you believe that I had a personalized liscence plate on my car, for many years, that read: THEORY? 'Tis true.

I wonder how many poets wish that they could think theoretically? Not too many, I'd venture to say. Let's face it -- there are romantic dreamers and there are unromantic pragmatists. Which one are you?