Proof
I am dabbling in inductive logic and noticed how obsessive and compulsive I become when tinkering with abstractions. Music inspires me. Good, wholesome classical music (whatever "classic" means), like Glass. His music will be the catalyst for my final epiphany. Imagine standing in a field full of bright, yellow flowers blanketing a dosal hill, arms outstretched to a blue sky with puffy, white patches; twirling yourself about, giddy as a child. But my final epiphany will not be a proof. I will not describe it with words. Still I will hear it, see it, feel it; it will be beautiful.
My contemporaries are correct in their kind assessment that I am not a genius. They are polite when labeling me a "logical" or "intelligent" friend but my obsessions and compulsions mimic illogical and unintelligent laypersons. Sometimes I delight in fantastical ideas; mosttimes I lack the wit to get the punch-line. I immerse myself in Comedy Central and Adult Swim as my best attempt to grasp popular intelligentsia. Despite gaining abit more knowledge, at least enough to hold a conversation about The Simpson's, laughing over the cartoon does not make me happier.
Most my friends talk about having good time so you often hear me whisper complaints about hedonism because, frankly, I do not believe everything is fun-n-games. Thank goodness, for my sanity's sake, I believe most things are enjoyable. I enjoy laughing with my sisters, eating lunch with Logan, drinking coffee with Adam, studying with Pete, et cetera. One time I overheard Zeddy admit, proudly yet with a kind of gay spirit, how she enjoys her studies. Zeddy mentioned that finally (in graduate school) all her attention is focused on what she likes doing and, as a bonus, she likes doing it here. Now I understand what we had in common. Appreciation always escorts my losses.
Logan said it best: I enjoy learning. So I keep reminding myself of my purpose here, to avoid losing my place here -- and how you, my friend, play a uniquely memorable role in this beautiful experience.
Edition: I entitled this entry "Proof" before hearing about the screenplay or subsequent movie with the same title. Talk about fate -- the fundamental humanity and insanity of both the play and this entry are the same.
My contemporaries are correct in their kind assessment that I am not a genius. They are polite when labeling me a "logical" or "intelligent" friend but my obsessions and compulsions mimic illogical and unintelligent laypersons. Sometimes I delight in fantastical ideas; mosttimes I lack the wit to get the punch-line. I immerse myself in Comedy Central and Adult Swim as my best attempt to grasp popular intelligentsia. Despite gaining abit more knowledge, at least enough to hold a conversation about The Simpson's, laughing over the cartoon does not make me happier.
Most my friends talk about having good time so you often hear me whisper complaints about hedonism because, frankly, I do not believe everything is fun-n-games. Thank goodness, for my sanity's sake, I believe most things are enjoyable. I enjoy laughing with my sisters, eating lunch with Logan, drinking coffee with Adam, studying with Pete, et cetera. One time I overheard Zeddy admit, proudly yet with a kind of gay spirit, how she enjoys her studies. Zeddy mentioned that finally (in graduate school) all her attention is focused on what she likes doing and, as a bonus, she likes doing it here. Now I understand what we had in common. Appreciation always escorts my losses.
Logan said it best: I enjoy learning. So I keep reminding myself of my purpose here, to avoid losing my place here -- and how you, my friend, play a uniquely memorable role in this beautiful experience.
Edition: I entitled this entry "Proof" before hearing about the screenplay or subsequent movie with the same title. Talk about fate -- the fundamental humanity and insanity of both the play and this entry are the same.