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                  When I am sick I do not run as much. This past week or so I
                  have been sick.
                  Running,
                  as you may know, is one of the things that helps me preserve
                  my tenuous grip on reality. Reality is a strange thing. My dad
                  used to tell me that reality is merely our perception of the
                  world. Is then then misfortune that befalls me a result of the
                  darkness in my heart? Is the joy in my life merely a reflection
                  of my inner happiness? Epictetus, if I remember him correctly,
                  would say yes. He'd say we cannot control the world around us
                  but we can control how we perceive it to create our reality.
                 
                
                  Sunday night after PyTennessee Cara hooked up the TV to the
                  cable so that she could watch the Superbowl. For some reason
                  she enjoys the ritual and communal sense of national sporting
                  events. I had so work due for the Galois Theory class I'm taking,
                  so I headed out to Starbucks to avoid the distraction. It's
                  interesting that Starbucks on Superbowl Sunday isn't really
                  empty. There are plenty of other people who don't care about
                  watching, including others burying themselves in study. After
                  a while a woman came in and sat down across from me. She asked
                  for my help, saying she worked at a local restaurant (one I
                  never go to) and had been involved in a domestic violence
                  incident so she needed to get a room for the night. She claimed
                  to be $34 short on the room. Untrusting soul that I am figured
                  it must be a scam somehow, but my humanity won out and I
                  decided to help her. I called up the hotel and told them I
                  wanted to pay $34 and only $34 toward her room and then gave
                  them the credit card number of a prepaid card that only had
                  $50 on it to minimize my liability. Then I asked her why she
                  chose me - was I the nicest looking person in Starbucks. No,
                  she said, I looked the least judgemental.
                 
                
                  Of course, I don't really believe my father or Epictetus. I
                  believe reality exists apart from my perception of it. And I
                  believe that there are chemical things happening in my brain
                  that make me feel happy or sad apart from my intentions to
                  feel either. Still, they are both useful fictions to explore.
                 
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