|
The only real reason to avoid work is to do something more important;the only motivation is to realize a goal; the only acceptable deviations are somewhat semi-acceptable; the only real avoidance factor disestablished linnean repository difference distinguished by dominant character. Try going out into the blue ocean for a change, and watching the stars, twinkling their ecstasy, their electric joy, their freedom, dominant and distinguished. Try opening the fragments, try pulling them farther apart. Started out without a plan, as we go onward, the universe dominates the spectrum of difference and we joyously celebrate the differences, discussing them openly, distracted and disattached from cognizance by the realization that all things will be considered in due time and that everyone will know the answer to their personal questions before the evening advances to readily approaching the dominion and domination studio of difference distracted, dispersed, and irresponsible. We think we know the reasons for our change but can we really? Is it possible to understand what goes on in our filthy, cluttered minds? Can we really see the way our personalities evolve in separate directions, caressing, disposed, and limitless? Can we be sure that we are talking authoritatively about anything at all? We don�t know what will come next, so how can we pretend to try? We cannot explain the present, we don�t know anything about the past, and we are unable to see the future. We are trapped in a thin threadlike segment of time, somewhere between what has already occurred and what will shortly take place, but we are unable to grasp the meaning of our somber reptilian reality. Yes, I say we are trapped, as it were, between the crushing mountain of our future�s worries and the steady rock of our past actions. We are trapped, verily I say unto thee, we are trappt and we cannot get out. The only way we can make sense of this quagmiric reality is to understand that a higher purpose drives our ambition. Yes, there is a goal that we are constantly working towards. We may not be able to see what this goal is, But it is there, slowly, inexorably creeping its way towards us, realizing responsibly, dominion domination. Destruction of the self will bring us closer to the inevitable. The eternal feminine guides the ever-reaching masculine along a short, dark alleyway, and then drops him off at the end and waits for him to grow. His mother, the eternal feminine, is embodied in that short drop from the canalian alleyway; it will never leave him, backwards, distressed, and he will never be able to leave it. He will not know what that feeling is, that sense of fear mixed with longing which he experiences when he looks through dark alleyways and sees even greater darkness on the other side. If it were bright he would be able to distinguish, to understand, metaphorically that the lights go out on everyone, but at the moment of birth and even greater darkness comes over us, a darkness which is actually a strong light; that where before we were unable to understand what was going on in the world outside our womblike library, we were fully aware of what was going on inside it, but now that we have been forced into the light of current existence we are suddenly shorn of all the things that were familiar to us, all the things that made sense, were logical, had meaning. At that moment, that birthing moment of fire and pain and icy death of understanding, the baby suddenly realizes that it is not omniscient, that it does not know everything. That is the first thing that can be known for certain. Wheras earlier all stimuli could be interpreted as part of a cosmic tinity within the cagelike universe of the womb, and the baby could understand all of these things with exacting precision and infinitely all-encompassing assurance of understanding, now it is presented with completely foreign ideas, stimuli, and events, which it cannot relate to anything in its existence. It is at a loss for an explanation of its new surroundings. And it tries to get out. The baby�s first scream is not a scream of pain or fear, but a hell-shriek of anger, of infinite rage contained within that small body. When it snows we must remember that the snow will melt. When it rains we must remember that the clouds will fade apart. When the wind blows we must remember that eventually the wind will stop blowing. Every state of being that we are able to include ourselves in will eventually pass away. Every stimulus that we can experience will eventually come to an end. 4.5.05 Back |