Saturday, 12 March 2016

On Row, Row, Row Your Boat

It was Thursday. Is it just me, or does anyone else find that Thursdays just have that kind of Thursday feeling? Like, it's not the mid-week. And it's not the end of the week. It's post-mid-week. But that sounds ridiculous. But it just feels heavier than Tuesday. You know?
Anyway, I digress.
I was having the Thursday feels.

I was in the Philosophy Common Room, in which there are sometimes some unusal to say the least, sights. (Two people playing Chess and relating it back to Philosophy. Existentially though, can we check mate?)
I was reading an article that had the words to Row, Row, Row Your Boat in it. It had the final line as Life's but a spiders dream.

Life's but a spiders dream.

I read it over and over. Singing it to myself in my head. (Although it wouldn't have been that out of place to just start singing it). 

I always thought it was Life is but a dream. 

I messaged my friend, source of all reason, and the 'Mother' of our group.
Me: What's the last line of Row, Row, Row Your boat?
Her: If you see a crocodile don't forget to scream.
Me: Nono, the merrily merrily merrily one.
Her: Life is but a dream

I heaved an actual sigh of relief. For about five minutes I had begun to question everything I had known since I was a child, thinking that I had based everything solely on my mishearing.
Are the primary colours actually red, blue and yellow?
Is this actually my left hand? 
I was having an existential crisis (in the Philosophy Common Room, how apt). 

I re-read the article.
Life's but a spiders dream.
Life is but a dream.
They aren't really all that different.
And all it shows is that sometimes people do things a little differently. It doesn't make it, or them, or you wrong. It just makes us different. 

And why would we all want to be the same?
Life is but a dream. 


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