Friday, September 16, 2016

Losing Time

Shakespeare wrote in Macbeth that an idiot is "...full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Of course, he was wielding anthropomorphism here. Shakespeare lent the attributes of a damnable fool to human life itself, that is, he inferred that human life was an experience of ultimate meaninglessness. But what led Macbeth to reason that there would be a conclusion at all? It seems apt for Macbeth to believe that human expression can be very void ... but why did he think it would ever end?

Did you see Saint Peter upside down? Did you see that cross stuck in the ground? Mustard seeds adorn the dirt of Golgotha, and so we smell the flowers, the hope. But if the cross never leaves the mud, is it all for nought? What does it take for the cross to be unearthed?

It's incredible how so many points of substance can be so empty in actuality. Not one is able to ascertain. In themselves, perhaps mere guessing can be made as to what certain objects contain, but the phenomenon of knowing such substances for yourself is entirely different. Is this all some color-blindness of aspiration? Is every green light red in actuality?

We are alone in the "our" because consciousness can never be replicated. Not even empathy can hold a candle to individuality. But people continue to be clumsy with the matches. They believe so sincerely that they hold an adequate understanding of what's going on in the world (what is "the world," anyway?), and yet, they are completely in the dark as to what's truly occurring in their life ... Kierkegaard's loss of self.

Who waits on the divine? Are you like Kreeft, waiting for angels to pour from the usual and static stone walls? Does anyone even believe in the after? 

Forgetfulness is born out of either apathy or intention. What makes one so forgettable? Maybe it's literally nothing: if you have nothing to be remembered by, you cannot be forgotten in the first place. But creators are forgotten all the time. How many times have you heard "x was not well-recognized in their lifetime" and yet they're nowadays talked about quite a lot. I guess things eventually work out for some. But how could you forget me?

The bus! The bus! Time is crumbling. Waltz and mosey - do what you must - as long as lateness doesn't find you. Find timeliness ... the black wheels are fortune.

What is of proper time? How do I know? I lost time ... here. It hasn't ended yet.

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