I read this in my GP tutor's blog (he's the link on the left, "A Teacher's Angst").

"how many times have looked at what goes on in my head and fear the worst. It cannot be the worst - for nothing is nothing and the worst cannot be called the worst. If the consciousness were a tool with which we shaped our thoughts, carefully, not these thrown out scraps of interstatial fiddlings, what would the worst be? And now I am become the worst not I but become because I perceive the worst dripping and sloshing all around me."

I had a dream last night. I was walking by this stream with what looked like a lot of fat red carp in it… what surprised me was that I was there with my mom. I like watching running water, have been strangely attracted to water since I was very young. I used to sit by the edge of the reservoir just looking at the water, my family would be behind me jogging or flying kites, sometimes my father would join me but I didn't like him near me. My mom thought I was weird. "What's so interesting about the water? There's no fish in it."

Humans have a very strange capacity for wishing for exactly what they can't have. What we know is that these people can't be here, aren't what we wish them to be, wouldn't make a scat of difference if they were here anyway; they might conceivably make things worse. And yet we keep right on wishing. Because if we didn't have something to wish for, we don't have anything solid to pin our wishes on. If there wasn't anything that would make us happy, perhaps nothing in the world can ever make us happy; we are left with a hollow unappeased yearning for something we can't even name.

And so we keep right on wishing.