Sometimes the mind gets a little too stretched by all those hyperactive thoughts jostling for VIP seats in one's consciousness. Not all of them get the coveted spots, of course, and one can hardly expect the sore losers to go quietly. So some try to unseat the victors, kicking and screaming, while others make nuisances of themselves by hijacking other areas of the brain, areas in charge of migraines, ulcers, palpitations, and every other unpleasant physical manifestation of a troubled mind. What to do with the little miscreants? Take them out and straighten them out, of course. Hence the Pensieve.
So simple, so brilliant, so Dumbledore. Wish I had one.
Of course, one can argue that neither my thoughts nor my mind are anywhere near as interesting, or as impressive, as the good headmaster's. But then again, they're my inane thoughts, messing around in my simple head, so my need for external storage space is just as valid as his. Maybe more. And because this silly Muggle does not have a prayer of getting her hands on an actual Pensieve, she goes and gets herself a blog spot. Same difference.
Simple, yet effective. Professor Dumbledore would be proud of me.
Of course, one can argue that neither my thoughts nor my mind are anywhere near as interesting, or as impressive, as the good headmaster's. But then again, they're my inane thoughts, messing around in my simple head, so my need for external storage space is just as valid as his. Maybe more. And because this silly Muggle does not have a prayer of getting her hands on an actual Pensieve, she goes and gets herself a blog spot. Same difference.
Simple, yet effective. Professor Dumbledore would be proud of me.
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