A while ago I was talking to a friend about the dichotomy of thought, and more importantly, the exact moment where an idea splits between that which is unsaid and that which we express. It often happens to me that I think a million things but can't verbalize them quite as they are in my mind, however confident I may be in their existence or wholesomeness. My friend said that this is because when we think, we automatically glaze over the blanks (or the parts that we don't actually know) without realizing it, but when we verbalize our thoughts, obviously we can't do that. He said that the gaps in our thoughts become transparent when our thoughts leave the mouth, and that made me wonder: how much of what we think we know do we actually know? What if we were to recite everything we think we're sure of- how many complete sentences could we form? I suppose this could be the ego, or self-preservation...but dissecting that would be breaking its very core, right?
Then I decided to make a raw peanut butter chocolate pie because I was really craving something chocolatey. Yeah, enjoy that non sequitur.
Warning: this mufucka real dense. First, you take about 2 cups of raw cocoa, then you take a bunch of soaked peanuts that you've blended until they turned into peanut butter, then you mix those up and add about half a cup of agave nectar. Then you blend more unsoaked peanuts and pack them down in your pie tray, pouring the chocolatey mixture over your gansta nut crust, and let it solidify in the fridge. Then you get really fat and wonder what this whole thing is about anyway.