The Lone Fox


“Lone Fox Dancing”

As I walked home last night,
I saw a lone fox dancing
In the bright moonlight.

I stood and watched,
Then took the low road, knowing
The night was his by right.

Sometimes, when words ring true,
I’m like a lone fox dancing
In the morning dew.

– Ruskin Bond


The Thing With Feathers

The Thing With Feathers
“Hope” is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops – at all
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm
I’ve heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest Sea
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.
(Emily Dickinson)

Drunk Philosophy

Drunk Thinking

It’s interesting how I have come to be. I sit here now, half drunk, having chosen to drink too much. That choice coming from the likelihood that 1) I’m in an atmosphere to be drinking, 2) I have resource to drink, and 3) I have desire to be drinking. Considering all 3 are highly likely, it’s no surprise that I have found myself in the state I am in (drunk). However, that does not negate the possibility of probabilistic determination which impresses the feeling of free will… does that mean I am truly in control? Such is the nature of the argument of consciousness. What’s happening here? Awareness and forethought of actions, or probabilities upon probabilities and the manifestation of those drunken random chances?