I have a hypothesis. I think a human brain can only handle a certain amount of beauty. So if you live a few blocks from the beach you spend your days watching the sun rise up from the waves every morning. You skip smooth discs of sea glass out toward the dolphins you've named Skip and Louise. Your feet are strong and worn from the miles you've put in up and down the sandy coast. Twelve hours after sunrise you walk to a restaurant and watch the sunset while enjoying raw, slimey stuff and umbrella-protected drinks. Day after day you wear a life that midwesterners can only try on for a week or two every year. Your brain is maxed out with beauty. So you buy insane things and decorate your house with them. You have no clue how ugly the sparkly starfish candles and pelican bookends are because your brain is full of seeing real starfish play hide and seek with real pelicans. The part of your CPU that discerns interior beauty has been fried by nature. You do all
you can to recreate the outdoors in your indoors but you inadvertantly create catastrophic unnatural disasters. It's not your fault. Unless my hypothesis is wrong. Then it's totally your fault and you should stop it.
you can to recreate the outdoors in your indoors but you inadvertantly create catastrophic unnatural disasters. It's not your fault. Unless my hypothesis is wrong. Then it's totally your fault and you should stop it.
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