The Word

Nothing has made itself more of a staple of our humanness than the written word. It simultaneously holds our whole of understanding, creativity, and experience.

And yet compared to the ideas and forms our words try and represent they are empty shells, almost meaningless…almost.

But, this almost is what seems to matter to us most. We are ‘happy’ with the almost; it’ll do for now. I can at times see and realize the sources of these traces, these silhouettes, these shadows of being. But, immediately they mean nothing. As quickly as I grasp reality, I misplace it. I do wish it would find me, but then that would be so frightening I’m not sure how I would handle it, poorly I bet.

There are a lucky few who have been found by reality and were able to recognize it right away. Even fewer if any have held onto reality. So revel in your suffering and inability to deal with the way things are.

Cause if you understood, you wouldn’t be here. By coming here you have punished yourself because you wanted to feel something. Whether this be a noble or ignoble virtue can never be agreed upon, and it should not be.

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