Ramblings
Why does everything that I think of to say seem merely depressing or old hat or pathetic pleas falling on deaf ears or preaching to the choir? I don't care for the world much. I often have a vision of the world being merely a painted backdrop on an illusive canvas. If I could tear away that curtain, pull it back and see the other world waiting behind it... Oh, well. That way madness and the Matirx lie. We all feel an inner greatness inside of us, an impression that there is more to ourselves than the everyday world, an impression that there is more to the world than what we can see and hear and touch and know. This is our human soul, our spiritual side, the side that at some core part of our being feels that there must be more to it than this. Don't kid yourselves; the human soul is a real phenomena, a truism that is unarguable. By assigning it a name and a dual nature of real but unreal--that is, of being supernatural, preternatural, religious--we attempt to validate it and explain it. Don't bother validating it or explaining it. Don't try to bring it into some rambling explanation of the way things are. Instead, try to merely experience your soul. It is the feeling of being human.