Sometimes you have to go deep into your own madness to evaluate your motivations. When I was 10 years old playing pee-wee football a team mate's father asked me what was my motivation. I remember not knowing the meaning of the word motivation let alone the meaning of the question. I just shrugged and said that I didn't know. It was the truth. I didn't know. After thirty some odd years I now understand my motivations in life. I am thankful for that day on the sidelines when that epoch question was before me. What was my motivation all those years ago?--to know. That's it. My motivation was, simply, to experience the fruits of my imagination. To know. Which brings me to now. The trouble is I find lots to entertain me. Everything is interesting to me. I mean, isn't it cool to watch a bunch of ants carrying to and fro? Or, what about bending and re-bending a piece of copper wire to watch it break under too-much internal tension. What about making a paper glider plane to see how far it can fly? Cool!
Ok, I think you may be getting the point. In the immortal words of Willy Wonka, "There's too little to do and so much time. Strike that, reverse it."
I've got things to do.
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