Beware the discovery of lack. Beware the idle time you create for yourself that leaves you able to see what was not there. Beware what you will do to yourself, to your life, to others to fill that sudden and deep void.
I warn you about these things even as I plummet. I should have known not to open it up. Should have seen the signs.
Should write less cryptically.
I eschew that everyone needs a perfect person in their life. Some other of some significance that gives life meaning. Drivel. But everyone needs others. Non-descript others that we will hang significance upon at whim. We are never certain where they enter and we mourn their passing and bemoan their exits from the scene. We are sentimental and we need to make everything mean something.
Everything already has an inherent meaning. A meaning that does bend to the whim of positive or negative thinking. But we can invest a lot of ourselves into the possibilities and the certainties (presumed) and we can dash ourselves upon the rocks of hope.
Buddhism expresses a need to purge hope. Which is a form of mistranslation. They are not anti-hope. They are anti-miserable-unstoppable-unattainable-want. To hope is to believe that tomorrow holds something worth working towards, worth staying alive for, worth being around to see. AMUUW (I'm not typing the hyphenated phrase another 10 times) is about greed and a refusal to accept. It is selfish and beyond reason and has no place in a world or a society. AMUUW is a sense of entitlement. And we all know what happens when you give in to a sense of entitlement.
So, for my life I have found myself suddenly remembering what it is to have something outside of my solipsistic nonsense. To see myself through the eyes of another. To think of myself not as a single unit against the world but as a part of a continuum and a whole.
As one person might have put it, a circle. But I'm going to continue to be angry at her and declare circles a bad philosophy without a concrete vector or any sense of temporal space. Fie on them!
Friday, June 4, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Entry 13 January 31, 2010
One of the little understood facets of the night is how quickly it flees from you. The world is not a place split in half, if anything it is split in thirds and the night only occupies one of those thirds. So it is not surprising to see the days come and go and the nights to pass by in a haze and a flash.
So here I am, haven't posted in over two months. Which is not say I have not been up late at night, that I have not stood on my porch and looked out at the city lights, the night sky, the dark haze that permeates all aspects of life. I have been out there from time to time. I have stared into the dusk and the dawn.
I have had profound thoughts. I have forgotten profound thoughts.
But pith is a trick of the light and the shadows know better. But the shadows also know enough to keep their heads down and murmur and not raise a stir about how pith looks like an idiot when he's not on.
There is a quiet at night, an empty head-space that gives thoughts a place to reverberate and speak up and shout and fret without worry that the light of day will make them feel small and weak. The night is a time of strength for the smallest of things. Insects teem, star light shines down, dreams are given life and time. Night is the time of inner creation, a time to produce intangibles.
A place to hide from certain harsh lies told in the day. A place to let your eyes close and that feeling of exhaustion and bustled hopelessness to drip from your fingers like a warm rain.
The night is a silent and constant friend that will always be waiting for you at the end of the light, a darkness filled with more warmth then anything the sun has to offer.
And it will go away and it will return.
Just like you.
So here I am, haven't posted in over two months. Which is not say I have not been up late at night, that I have not stood on my porch and looked out at the city lights, the night sky, the dark haze that permeates all aspects of life. I have been out there from time to time. I have stared into the dusk and the dawn.
I have had profound thoughts. I have forgotten profound thoughts.
But pith is a trick of the light and the shadows know better. But the shadows also know enough to keep their heads down and murmur and not raise a stir about how pith looks like an idiot when he's not on.
There is a quiet at night, an empty head-space that gives thoughts a place to reverberate and speak up and shout and fret without worry that the light of day will make them feel small and weak. The night is a time of strength for the smallest of things. Insects teem, star light shines down, dreams are given life and time. Night is the time of inner creation, a time to produce intangibles.
A place to hide from certain harsh lies told in the day. A place to let your eyes close and that feeling of exhaustion and bustled hopelessness to drip from your fingers like a warm rain.
The night is a silent and constant friend that will always be waiting for you at the end of the light, a darkness filled with more warmth then anything the sun has to offer.
And it will go away and it will return.
Just like you.
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