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so what if means nothing. long night. woke up feeling rested after so few hours of sleep. awoke in sweat because my room is just that hot and humid. someone kept me up. first time that's happened in a long while. fascinating conversation. double-carriage repeat. there's something remarkably compelling about an exhange of the minds that hits you and throttles you and doesn't let go. It's not what's being said, though it is. context is everything. firing off and connecting and making sense of our own lives in the span of their storytelling, their shared recollections and anecdotes. good conversation is better than good sex, in that way. an ideal world would be to marry the two, but that just might get messy and downright explosive. saying something and meaning it. the tiny pithy little intellectual in me sometimes wants to escape and run around the bavarian hillsides like a mad man-beast, grunting insights into epiphany, scaring, mentally scarring the living shit out of any hapless peon who happens to wander across my rampage. blah. this is getting tiresome. i feel the ego waning and I'd rather sit and read a book and lose myself in something besides myself. But it feels good sometimes to embrace the qualities in your own head that make you distinctive, and have someone else appreciate that. And vice versa. To fine dine on the rich profundities that exist outside your own skull.