Indulge yourself in that dark, grainy oasis. That place where an amalgam of emotions just seems to cease for a moment or longer, like a remedy to malice, passion, wrath, peace, hate, and love. In fact, if you stay long enough, it’s almost like you don’t exist. Is that something you’d like to feel? Better yet, is that something that you’d want? To not exist. It leaves you wondering if life as you may know it and/or life as you may want to know it would alter in any way from the result of you existing no longer. But dear friend, I’d like you to imagine the world. I’d like you to imagine… your world. Would it be as ideal as the obscure chasm? Perhaps so, perhaps not; you honestly don’t know. Maybe, it’s better off that way. To not know. More so, we don’t want choices. We don’t want to make them. And somehow, a problem always ensues. And somehow, we eventually become upset not at the problem itself, but rather the source of it. And somehow, we come to a depressing conclusion that said source is us. Ourselves. Then, we blame it on others. Then, we blame it on ourselves. We will analyze the details of both groups, back and forth. It’s a never-ending loophole. It’s almost like controversy of what or who started the problem, and that controversy would be between you and yourself. And if that’s the case, then everyone else must do it too. With that in mind, we would say that in some odd way, all problems are caused by others and all problems are caused by us. I hate you, and you hate me. Or, I love you, and you love me. What do all these components work up to? Why waste your time on something inevitably unanswerable? Life. And no, life is not the answer to those questions. Life isn’t the answer to any question. Life is the question itself. So, where do we find the answers? We don’t. We never will, no matter how satisfying or convincing one idea or philosophy or whatnot seems to be when it comes to life. All that we were meant to do, to say, to see; all false. In no way will there ever be an incontrovertible answer to life and the Truth. And there’s always an absolute way of knowing that answer. I wouldn’t know, though, and you wouldn’t either. In the end, why exhaust life, reality, matter, the Universe, the Truth on reading this, on reading other things, on creating things, on learning things, on thinking about things, on existence, on doing, on hearing, on smelling, on touching, on seeing? On everything? I believe this is where we must stop, dear friend. Plain and simply, it doesn’t matter. We’re here, nonetheless. So, that being said, I guess it’s just time to… relax, for once. Close your eyes, get lost within the deep confines of the glorious trenches that you thought you could always see but never saw. Feel the serenity, feel the equanimity, feel that inexplicable ataraxy. Now, open your eyes to the world, to reality. This is where you are. Life.
Close Those Eyes of Yours.
November 25, 2010