It's been a while since I posted, and my prior posts are too angry. That was probably when I was going through my identity crises, which I still am going through of course. Conclusion: Science explodes, Philosophy recedes. You truly appreciate a deep person when you see their coral reefs after emerging from their abyssal planes, does darkness have more depth than light? Some of what frightens me also makes me curious in contradiction.
The history of eternity to me is a lonely hall of frozen relics buried in permafrost traditions, the contemplation of it terrifies me to stupefaction.
I think epiphanies vary by which ones you decide are worth leaving from the contemplation of eternity for.
Here is a more poetic section of the 250 page word document on my computer.
We
live within a moist aquamarine pearl saturated in life amidst
beryl seas of dark quintessence, an oasis in the cold black and blue, where
city lights mimic effervescing stars, and flickering wonder in the eyes of protosimian lovers. The prime entheologian
bathes in the beauty of such a precious microcosm, like the sacred pool of spheres in a cosmic
kingdom, rippling with lightsource, visceral in experience. But hear us now! the cries of the
unheard below, fleeting memories facing time and space. The songs inscribed
into the Paleolithic fountain, golden hieroglyphs spill from her palms curling in efflorescent essence. Yet woe for the angst of space and her anticipating multitude, so
far within as so few without. The center is among us, passing
through and stopping by. The heart in her chest is like the sieve of our existence. How I long to be woven into those sinews of
experience, but I relinquish at the sight, in fear of the magnitude. To live of love and die
for meaning, beseeching my purpose yet I'm whisked away by passion on tidal auroras. What does human mean? To be down to earth yet be so
divine? Who invented divine says the pink sacred vine? I wish to sing for all the
unheard voices if they should utter but a sound.
