Monday, 29 November 2010

The observer - I

It would seem as if diversification is the key to relative happiness; when you got nothing to lose then baby you’ve got it all? Why is it then, that we are constantly driven by vertical goals, every now and then at least?

There comes a point in your life (every now and then at least) when you’ve expended yourself sufficiently to be reasonably reluctant of playing out the remainder of your cards too, if there are any left.

Solitude helps, but not explicitly. Solitude kills, but comfortably. Maybe you rise after that, maybe you fall deeper. Hopefully, you reach a point when it doesn’t matter, and either outcome leads to the same singularity. That is the dream. But they say dreamers are very impractical. Time will not tell. Dreamers will continue to dream by the nature of their circumloquacious ontology. That’s their flaw… and their merit. It’s the same. 

A sage is not a doctor – the ability to see your own misery guarantees no solution, it might even insulate you from a potential one.

As they say, zero-sum must be preserved. The re-emergence of an old friend necessitates the departure of the present one; actually the latter heralds the former on its way out.

I propounded this once, in youthful naivety, but I say it now, the same words but maybe a different framework: beauty and pain are inseparably and inevitably tied. The capacity to appreciate beauty comes (maybe) from the capacity to feel pain. The adjudicator of good has to graduate through the test of the not so good, the bad, the ugly, and the horrible. What’s more, the adjudicator needs to be constantly subjected to all The Others, and often spend more time researching the horrible, to still be competent enough to tell one apart from the other. It’s a nightmare for us mortals, but to him, it’s the joy of alchemy.