Turn the page...
Time is relative... and irrelevant. On a long enough timeline everything will be done, and nothing new could be created.
The sun rises and sets... but nothing rises or sets in this action. We just spin. The sun does not move (Which is what the statement "Sunrise", and "Sunset" imply) we move. Even when we are totally still, we move through space. Constantly moving... towards what end? Where are we going, and what do we plan on doing once we get there?
From nothing came something and eventually evolved into us. OR did we just appear with all of these thoughts, memories, and history carefully placed for us to find. A written past and unchangeable future. Do we reside within the pages of a book... if our audience stopped paying attention would be cease to be? Or would we just be snatched out of time? Placed in holding until our next Audience? And when they get here, do we start from the beginning?
Is/are my life, job, love, family, fiancé, pets, friends, emotions, happiness, pain, sadness all just garnish to make someone else’s life more interesting? More believable... The deeper a well is dug... the harder to see the bottom. Am I an extra in the story of a more interesting persons life? You know... guy #2 in the background walking across the street. The guy in the supermarket that mistakenly asks a non-employee where the pickles are. The guy that gets hit by a car, and the accident causes a great love to sprout within the on-lookers. Am I the means to the beginning of a great story? Are you?
What if all 29 years of my life were created not 29 years ago... but 2 days ago and jotted down in Kurt Vonnegut’s journal on his nightstand. There I will sit until he makes me flesh and gives me more depth... and thus here I am. Making a pointless blog on the internet about how I am a character within the very book you are reading, only I realize this fact. Causing an irony that Mr. Vonnegut has already gotten across in a different book. Why are you writing the same book twice Mr. Vonnegut? Why revisit old concepts? I NEED SOME FUCKING ORIGINALITY IN MY LIFE! MAKE ME MORE INTERESTING MR. VONNEGUT!!!!
And then there’s always the school of though that we are NOT characters in a book. Everything you see around you is real, and history has actually happened and all of the crazy goddamn shit that you have ever herd about is true. Which of the two theories is more believable? Which one spins your head more? Can all of this be fake... created? That would more over explain the concept of God. He is just the author. Think about your favorite author... and realize they are a god. At least they are to the characters they create. They create entire universes for our entertainment. They are the be all and end all of events, thoughts, actions, feelings, history and future in that universe. unshakable... unquestionable...
And doesn’t much matter if their creations believe in them or not, or for that matter even know about them. Perhaps they wrote in a different god to take their place and remain anonymous to their subjects.
It gets bright outside... then dark. But what does it matter what time you do what? Or even what it is you choose to do and what time you choose to do it. You are still spiraling to your end in the same fashion you have always been, and you are still being hurled through space on a rock. Someone might have written what you think about this post. And they perhaps could have written about how you die tomorrow. One last day in this book. And then its time for the other characters to learn a lesson and move the story along.
Turn the page... I would like to see what happens, at the end.
The sun rises and sets... but nothing rises or sets in this action. We just spin. The sun does not move (Which is what the statement "Sunrise", and "Sunset" imply) we move. Even when we are totally still, we move through space. Constantly moving... towards what end? Where are we going, and what do we plan on doing once we get there?
From nothing came something and eventually evolved into us. OR did we just appear with all of these thoughts, memories, and history carefully placed for us to find. A written past and unchangeable future. Do we reside within the pages of a book... if our audience stopped paying attention would be cease to be? Or would we just be snatched out of time? Placed in holding until our next Audience? And when they get here, do we start from the beginning?
Is/are my life, job, love, family, fiancé, pets, friends, emotions, happiness, pain, sadness all just garnish to make someone else’s life more interesting? More believable... The deeper a well is dug... the harder to see the bottom. Am I an extra in the story of a more interesting persons life? You know... guy #2 in the background walking across the street. The guy in the supermarket that mistakenly asks a non-employee where the pickles are. The guy that gets hit by a car, and the accident causes a great love to sprout within the on-lookers. Am I the means to the beginning of a great story? Are you?
What if all 29 years of my life were created not 29 years ago... but 2 days ago and jotted down in Kurt Vonnegut’s journal on his nightstand. There I will sit until he makes me flesh and gives me more depth... and thus here I am. Making a pointless blog on the internet about how I am a character within the very book you are reading, only I realize this fact. Causing an irony that Mr. Vonnegut has already gotten across in a different book. Why are you writing the same book twice Mr. Vonnegut? Why revisit old concepts? I NEED SOME FUCKING ORIGINALITY IN MY LIFE! MAKE ME MORE INTERESTING MR. VONNEGUT!!!!
And then there’s always the school of though that we are NOT characters in a book. Everything you see around you is real, and history has actually happened and all of the crazy goddamn shit that you have ever herd about is true. Which of the two theories is more believable? Which one spins your head more? Can all of this be fake... created? That would more over explain the concept of God. He is just the author. Think about your favorite author... and realize they are a god. At least they are to the characters they create. They create entire universes for our entertainment. They are the be all and end all of events, thoughts, actions, feelings, history and future in that universe. unshakable... unquestionable...
And doesn’t much matter if their creations believe in them or not, or for that matter even know about them. Perhaps they wrote in a different god to take their place and remain anonymous to their subjects.
It gets bright outside... then dark. But what does it matter what time you do what? Or even what it is you choose to do and what time you choose to do it. You are still spiraling to your end in the same fashion you have always been, and you are still being hurled through space on a rock. Someone might have written what you think about this post. And they perhaps could have written about how you die tomorrow. One last day in this book. And then its time for the other characters to learn a lesson and move the story along.
Turn the page... I would like to see what happens, at the end.