Tuesday, May 02, 2006

life wa nan desuka?


Life is just as real as death, and it is also just as surreal. The dreams of our nights can live into our days, or perhaps our days offer an even more intense form of dream - a form of dream that overcomes oneself, rendering one unable to perceive, unable to feel, what is real (precisely because it is the time that we assume we are most aware of the world - it's a trap).

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The atmosphere exists above and around us much like the windows in our home. The only difference is we cannot open the windows of the atmosphere. Every day I think I can feel the changes to the air, even in the countryside. I fear that I will never get to breathe true fresh air because there are so many human gases in the air. I would do anything to find and keep that purity again.

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The musical group Outkast has some lyric about how bad people are, for we seem to be the only species that truly bites, and perhaps is biting off, the ultimate mother that feeds us all.

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I think that if humanity fails it is because we cannot realize the reality that we are able to conceptualize. There is some gap between our feelings and our concepts that turns us into problematic little beasts. By realize I mean more than conceptualize, I mean to feel and to hold; for 'reality' to not let go of those emotions that most powerfully drive us. And yet 'reality' does not have that power over us. That it does not possess this power is both a blessing and a curse, a tool for survival, an anesthetic for death, and, at its best, provides ways to create new goodnesses.

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Perhaps the only way for reality to "have its day" is for it to physically act on us. That is how it will ultimately change and challenge. Those sensitive to it will probably feel its changes sooner; and some may never feel it. In society 'reality' becomes a cultural, social, and political topic for its definition. No one can agree about it. But as itself, in its purest form so to speak, it is the greater force that runs through us and surrounds us in time and space.

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