an existential comedy
isn't it fascinating and bizarre that we're all alive?
we're these peculiar, insignificant little creatures on this big round thing. and we think and breathe and eat and fuck and have all these different emotions. i mean, update your livejournal, type out a paragraph. even a sentence will do; a simple salutation. then type in the name of the song you're listening to (or want people to think you're listening to). now, move on to the next slot. your mood. how are you feeling? look at how many answers! dozens of 'em, all lined up and waiting to be the one that defines you, if only for a moment. and these are just the ones some programmers could think of. there's millions of different other moods and emotions. in between 'bouncy' and 'busy' there's hundreds of others there waiting for you. 'bodacious' could be one. or perhaps 'bouyant'. you have to admit that at one point in your life you've felt not quite bouncy, but more like bouyant. i know i have. this one time, i almost bumped my head on the ceiling, i was so bouyant. luckily, an instant later i was feeling 'attached to the laws of physics' and so i came tumbling back down.
and this! all this shit i just wrote! isn't it fucking incredibly absurd that i could think of all this. that i turned thoughts into words. isn't it incredibly absurd that i know that this 'R' and this 'r', though actually have no real pictorial resemblance, signify the same letter, the same sound?
I keep racking my brains: now here I am lying under this hayrick…The confined space I occupy is so minute when compared with the rest of the universe, where I am not and have no business to be; and the fraction of time I shall live is so infinitesimal when contrasted with eternity, in which I have never been and never shall be…And yet here, in this atom of myself, in this mathematical point, blood circulates, the brain is active, aspiring to something too…. What a monstrous thing! How absurd it seems!
life is ineffable. you can't quite grasp it, and that's exactly what it's all about (i may be losing some of you). it's ordinary and hopeful. it's this big fucking paradox manifested in millions of every-day events. it's the pauses in conversations, and the thoughts that start them.
i don't pretend to know what life is all about. no, i don't have that all-elusive answer. i'm just some kid awake at three in the morning, rambling to myself.
(as soon as you wrap your fingers around it, you realize it wasn't even there.)
we're these peculiar, insignificant little creatures on this big round thing. and we think and breathe and eat and fuck and have all these different emotions. i mean, update your livejournal, type out a paragraph. even a sentence will do; a simple salutation. then type in the name of the song you're listening to (or want people to think you're listening to). now, move on to the next slot. your mood. how are you feeling? look at how many answers! dozens of 'em, all lined up and waiting to be the one that defines you, if only for a moment. and these are just the ones some programmers could think of. there's millions of different other moods and emotions. in between 'bouncy' and 'busy' there's hundreds of others there waiting for you. 'bodacious' could be one. or perhaps 'bouyant'. you have to admit that at one point in your life you've felt not quite bouncy, but more like bouyant. i know i have. this one time, i almost bumped my head on the ceiling, i was so bouyant. luckily, an instant later i was feeling 'attached to the laws of physics' and so i came tumbling back down.
and this! all this shit i just wrote! isn't it fucking incredibly absurd that i could think of all this. that i turned thoughts into words. isn't it incredibly absurd that i know that this 'R' and this 'r', though actually have no real pictorial resemblance, signify the same letter, the same sound?
I keep racking my brains: now here I am lying under this hayrick…The confined space I occupy is so minute when compared with the rest of the universe, where I am not and have no business to be; and the fraction of time I shall live is so infinitesimal when contrasted with eternity, in which I have never been and never shall be…And yet here, in this atom of myself, in this mathematical point, blood circulates, the brain is active, aspiring to something too…. What a monstrous thing! How absurd it seems!
life is ineffable. you can't quite grasp it, and that's exactly what it's all about (i may be losing some of you). it's ordinary and hopeful. it's this big fucking paradox manifested in millions of every-day events. it's the pauses in conversations, and the thoughts that start them.
i don't pretend to know what life is all about. no, i don't have that all-elusive answer. i'm just some kid awake at three in the morning, rambling to myself.
(as soon as you wrap your fingers around it, you realize it wasn't even there.)