Please shut up already. Sorry for ruining things with words.
Physics once again proves correct. All things gravitate downwards. But it works more subtlety than that: all things gravitate to disappointment. My ambitions, my lame misconceptions of the world, my constant quest for confident affirmations, all strive for painful, precarious disenchantment. In its movement towards disappointment, life rarely (or very slowly and imperceptibly) allows for a blending of hope with fact. Much more commonly do the two remain separate. Yet what a thing to behold before it arrives at its nadir.
When so many people tell you that without the apex the nadir means nothing, I cannot help but disagree. Surely would surfeit blending produce an undoubtedly divine existence. No way does a life like that require any kind of indulgence in the uncertainties of feeling our "sure extinction" for one to appreciate it. People like to sound profound with proclamations about how opposites give definition to each other in some kind of sick parasitic symbiotic relationship. The popularity of that opinion lends it very little credibility, especially since life gains its azure hue through the knowledge of its impending resolution. Knowing the finite nature of humanity actually makes it less appealing. Many may talk of the ending as providing some kind of incentive to enjoy the little part alloted to each, but that hackneyed explaining smells of the human urge to give meaning to the meaningless parts that constitute the whole when that only happens in a small number of very distinct phenomena already documented to act in such a manner, without permission to apply its characteristics to anything else. I cannot really think of any rewarding activity that would benefit from a self-conscious realization of its impending ending. Sure, an acceptance of reality is needed but that acceptance does not give meaning to unwanted results. Not at all.
I cannot continue with this argot. Sorry. I know that "I should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling across the floors of silent seas." I do not care, though. Always for a flicker does it seem that life holds promise. Too bad life has so little security. Only generalities provide a little truth. Hemingway felt it all along--he would tell his wife that in the heart of another is a black forest. I cannot help but agree since I do not have too much understanding about attraction or how one can just know that the attraction will last or even exists in the first place. However, some childish jubilation lives in me, albeit covered in the moss of the doubts the past gives me. (I love bad figurative language.) For now I can only hope that this beautiful gift so near and so unbelievable reaches me before it dies--the disappointment of a life time, as after this everything else will be a shadow.
When so many people tell you that without the apex the nadir means nothing, I cannot help but disagree. Surely would surfeit blending produce an undoubtedly divine existence. No way does a life like that require any kind of indulgence in the uncertainties of feeling our "sure extinction" for one to appreciate it. People like to sound profound with proclamations about how opposites give definition to each other in some kind of sick parasitic symbiotic relationship. The popularity of that opinion lends it very little credibility, especially since life gains its azure hue through the knowledge of its impending resolution. Knowing the finite nature of humanity actually makes it less appealing. Many may talk of the ending as providing some kind of incentive to enjoy the little part alloted to each, but that hackneyed explaining smells of the human urge to give meaning to the meaningless parts that constitute the whole when that only happens in a small number of very distinct phenomena already documented to act in such a manner, without permission to apply its characteristics to anything else. I cannot really think of any rewarding activity that would benefit from a self-conscious realization of its impending ending. Sure, an acceptance of reality is needed but that acceptance does not give meaning to unwanted results. Not at all.
I cannot continue with this argot. Sorry. I know that "I should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling across the floors of silent seas." I do not care, though. Always for a flicker does it seem that life holds promise. Too bad life has so little security. Only generalities provide a little truth. Hemingway felt it all along--he would tell his wife that in the heart of another is a black forest. I cannot help but agree since I do not have too much understanding about attraction or how one can just know that the attraction will last or even exists in the first place. However, some childish jubilation lives in me, albeit covered in the moss of the doubts the past gives me. (I love bad figurative language.) For now I can only hope that this beautiful gift so near and so unbelievable reaches me before it dies--the disappointment of a life time, as after this everything else will be a shadow.