At old games of nonsense

Another week goes by and still the eyegaze technology seems to have determined itself to destroy any progress I might have made in mastering the art of communication through eyeball fixation. This development is none too helpful when I am limited such as my situation dictates. The exceedingly frustrating manner of my limitation simply puts me on par with a limbless gazelle being chased by Teddy Roosevelt in the outback of the Serengeti. I have devolved into a lower life form through the effects of technological failure, but I will emerge semi intact, proving evolution along the way, evident merely by my accompishment.
      Speaking of evolution, not necessarily Darwinian, the processes of thought adapt or fail to adapt in unison with my ability or lack thereof to digest the realities engulfing me, day by day, a maw at the ready to devour all that remains of my function, a typical evolution, blind as form dictates, affectation influenced only by my efforts and successes at influencing a segue of permanent conduit.
     I have waxed philosophical many times but I am no philosopher. I have touched on religion but I am no theologian. I have spoken of spirituality but I am no spiritualist. I have talked about death but obviously I'm ignorant. What, exactly, am I driving at? Hell, I don't know, I'm as clueless as everybody else. Everything in life is a guessing game, which makes my guess as good as yours, I guess.
    I'd say "in conclusion", but it sounds too "concluded", so I'll simply "not conclude" and leave y'all hangin' while I prepare for my Peoria trip. Bye for the time bein' an tanks fer playcatin' me wit yer attendncin' me writin'.