My Concious Squall

I am thinking right now therefore I am. I guess. My ideas of my conciousness are easiest (but not easily) explained by the thought of my conciousness as a basketball or any ball for that matter. In this basketball there is my immediate sensory intake. What I can see. What it feels like to be typing now. Pretty simple basic stuff. But when I write these sentences I am taking in thoughts, ideas, and letters from an area outside the basketball. Maybe like a card catalog somewhere. So there is a basketball balancing on a card catalog of stored memories of all sorts. So that I think is pretty graspable, what is especially confusing, on the other hand is where this basketball card-catalog combo is located. I think it is in a "brilary" which is a libray that we are not familiar with. One where the books are all thrown all over the place, where the covers of the books are in the middle, and the words are put down in no order just randomly placed around. Everyone has access to this "brilary" it is a public "brilary". I guess its more like we are all encompassed by the damn thing. The only time we have access to this disorderly is when we roll off the card catalog and let the air out of our basketballs, like sleeping, or peyote binges, or fasting, or not sleeping for that matter. I am pretty sure that eventually the basket ball will just explode from overuse (death) and we will be free to float around the "brilary" grazing on our fantasies. I am going to retire unto my bed and dream my self into my "brilary". hehehehehehehehehehheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh