Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Over a Cup of Java

His cup of java has no appeal to him. He'd knock it right off the table if it could contain itself. In a sense, his power becomes subordinate to its weakness. The dissatisfaction alone does not appease; he needs to actualize that dissatisfaction ... but I already know that he won't. He takes another sip to see if anything has changed and can feel his teeth turning slightly yellow, like a forgotten piece of white paper that's now a little easier on the eyes. I'm pretty sure the hint of vanilla keeps him coming back. It doesn't make up for the taste he dislikes, but it's somehow enough to make him think that it does - even if he doesn't really think that. Why would anything just stay in a cup like that? I feel some pity at even probing the question. Its meaning is so obvious that it doesn't even know it for itself. Perhaps that's the best way to live? And here I am, staring through a store window adorned in memorandums, watching a stranger enjoy a mere cup of joe. Why must I bide my time this way? I scratch my front tooth - the one on the right if you were facing me - or, my left. I need to brush my teeth, too.

I guess some people just don't enjoy angst. Not to say that anyone enjoys feeling angst itself ... or maybe some people do, rather sickly ... but a lot of people don't even enjoy perceiving angst. Nobody likes touching an active element on a stove, save for those who do not find it within themselves to feel the pain of coming into contact with such an object. In the same way, when a person of composed temper comes into contact with a person of angst, the composed person is likely to shy away. And if they're both filled with angst, they just won't cross paths at all. But none of this is right. The person of angst has a psychological fire ... is there really nothing pragmatic about it? Maybe pragmatic things just burn right up while in the flames ... tree branches and newspapers. What a waste of substance!

But what's pragmatic about a tree anyway, save for the oxygen they provide to their fellow creatures (conscious and non-conscious alike)? Humans must dance with their feet, but trees dance without having any feet at all. And unlike humans, they never dance to the tune of a miserable secular ethic, for instance, that of drunkenness. Trees must always dance to the rhythm of the wind, the Spirit of God, because nothing else will motivate them to move. The only way man can motivate a tree to move is through machinery, and such a method is used for the sole purpose of destruction.

Poetry is usually quite boring on its own. Nothing is as poetic as the passionate voice of a singer, no matter what they might be saying. I don't know why I write poems, either way ... not that I mentioned the ways anyway (I'm using 'way' way too much - no, not again) ... 

"Have you ever thought, even for one second, that our feelings are just a reflection of how we want to feel at that particular time?" Why are things frustrating? Though every moment is qualitatively different, I've noticed that certain patterns remain over time. Curiosity is so ambivalent ... it lets you explore the depths of the sea at one moment, and at the next, you're being reeled into the shallows of the negative. I don't know if I like this aphorism. I guess I'm just not charitable sometimes. Some people don't seem to have figured out that they don't even have 'it' figured out ... maybe they don't believe they do, but they just don't say it. Why does any of this matter? Really, I'm not a postmodernist ... and why do I even keep bringing this up? Maybe one day I'll forget about this altogether ...

I'm sure that God can imbue the human with proper certainty. If a human has an entire faculty that's filled with God, and the human loves God in return, then how could they ever go wrong?

2 comments:

  1. I don't mind postmodernism, tbh. It's really a cynical reaction to the Enlightenment, expressly godless. After being promised so much about understanding the universe and humanity, and not being delivered on that promise, how could people not become cynical?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Good point. I would also prefer postmodern thinking to Enlightenment thinking. I still have lots to learn about both ... but it's weird to me how many Christians complain about postmodernism for promoting "no absolute truth" when the meta narratives postmodernists are worried about are Marxism, liberalism, and progress - NOT religion, although I would guess some would make room for that. I can appreciate a mistrust toward social meta narratives but I would have to draw the line at spiritual meta narratives and keep those.

      Delete