Lost In A Sea Of Tumultuous Tranquility

Four dwarf giants set standing around a puddle of fire one wet and sunny night.
They grumbled along silently to each other.
The first complained of the pleasant feeling of slugs between his toes.
The second had lost track of time while staring at his watch.
The last thought only of finding a way to fly through the ocean on horseback--
he wanted to catch a glimpse of an invisible sea cow.

Day 6: We haven't found any food yet. Our water is running low, and we save what we can for the women and small children. One man thought he found a brollium deposit in a near by offshoot to this cavernous prison, but it ended up being fools' ore. If only it had been brollium, that stuff is always found near a source of clean water. No one knows why. That's just how it is.

But seriously, one of the top classic ways to start a fictitious journal entry is to have the writer still looking for food and water. It describes half of the scenarios that a person might actually be interested in reading out of a journal.

My brother continues to give me lesson after lesson in the ways of ludicris. That man has a mind like few I've ever met. He does know how to apply it very well and even according to the "rules" and "standards" of general acceptance. Most of the time, however, he chooses not to. He litterally sets aside time to think about the kinds of things that most people would never even consider. And each point is justifiable in its own right--though many of them do require certain allowances in order to function.
In all honesty I sometimes envy his keen observation of the obvious. He looks at the every-day, the mundane and makes observations that few others would ever come close to noticing. He sees connections that no one should notice until they are pointed out.
I've known for a long time that I'm not as observent as I could be, and some times as I should be. Listening to all the thoughts and ideas rolling out of my brothers head, however, makes me wonder what happened to me. We grew up in the same house, with the same family. What's the difference?
Don't get me wrong. I am proud of my brother, and I am content to be who God has made me to be. There are just times when I wonder if maybe I don't quite live up to all that God has made me to be simply because I don't practice many of these simple skills.
I guess I'll just have to leave the ultimate of absurdities to my brother.