Monkey see, monkey do

I love the feeling of rediscovery.
It's not the startling surprise of discovering something new, but rather a very pleasant feeling that sits somewhere in between deja-vous and the feeling when you see and recognise an old friend. Not sure if that entirely makes sense.

The context here is a book that I bought last week, Non-Fiction by Chuck Pulahniuk. Yes, the guy who wrote Fight Club. Creative genius, and storyteller of eyebrow lifting proportions. Except in this book, the stories are real.

I often think that I should have been a psychologist. Or at the very least, studied psychology. I am fascinated by the way that people think and act. I am an observer by nature and will happily just listen to words forming sentences forming conversation. It's pure music. With some people, the words gush at a constant rate and then pause, as if to catch up. With some people, the words accelerate until they reach a climax, which can sometimes lead into a dramatic pause and finale, or just stop dead. Someone I met recently, their words remind me of a fish, darting in and out of the anemone, intermittent pauses for breath before flitting off again.
I'm digressing a little but no matter. The point is, I discovered once that I loved this writer's imagination, and now, I love even more his way of thinking.

Remember, NEVER GET A CHIHUAHUA.