Writer's block...

Image via WikipediaOk folks, it's time to come clean.  Lately I've been running in strict improv mode.  You see being a student again has given me a daily live venue to debate all the moral dilemmas that we face as Americans.  And get this, there's no principal's office.  Apparently I'm supposed to be mature and understand how to behave during class.  Seriously?  Don't people know that I'm not capable of such nonsense?  So my loving classmates are now the privileged recipients of the overflowing pools of knowledge that can not be contained in my head.  When I say "can not", I honestly mean I don't have a choice.  Apparently when my brain was being manufactured in the "mind factory" some tweaker on the assembly line, who's in charge of installing the part of our brain that filters out innappropriate comments in social situations, was coming down off a three day high and fell asleep.  Well, there was probably a new guy or a fill-in running quality control too, because I got passed there undetected as well.  Anyways with an open venue to discuss mind blowing subjects such as anatomy and nursing theory (...zzzzzz), I arrive home at night pretty spent.  

So here I am left to question my own awesomeness.  Don't get confused it is not a question of awesomeness, it is more like--where do I stand?  Am I at level: super awesome or inconceiveably awesome to the 10th power.  You see, I thought that there was an endless fountain of knowledge and incredibly lucid quips constantly flowing from my mind.  It appears that economists may be on to something when they all agree that even on this great earth raw materials are limited.  Although I'd love to support "common belief" and be just another sheep in the herd, I prefer the lonely road.  Could it be, that maybe there is no deficit of knowledge and maybe there is a filter?  Maybe the filter just needs to be delved from bellow the layers of white matter (that's the quick part of the brainage).

Now I'm just confusing myself.  I just want my little soldiers to know that the revolution is still very much alive.  Unfortunately, my mad skills are being used up on sexual innuendos during talk of reproductive organs...