At times it appears things are the way they should be, that things are in order. But then I am reminded of the intrinsic I, the thing that can't be, that shouldn't, that needs to be fixed. Or that seems it needs to be fixed. I wish I could be a floating object that only observes, that needs nothing for sustenance, that needs nothing to continue. Something that only notes and records and does not ever want, ever long. But this, I suppose, is the inherent problem with being a human. I'll never be satisfied until I'm satisfied not being satisfied. But maybe it's my job to look past these innate inadequacies that befall each and every one of us. Maybe it's all of our jobs? I'm going to leave my legs in the street and breathe, and be.
And just be there to enjoy the ride. Instead of letting the ride take me. Maybe all you can really do is laugh in the face of the absurd, right Albert?
And it seems as well that instead of a constant stream of questions that instead a constant stream of non-answers, of actions, is in fact what should be. The viewfinder can no longer be questioned for the thoughts of others, the question of "who am I?" can only be answered within the weak paradigm of our own construct. Our minds are only so powerful and to continuously question everything without some kind of baseline is only a means to a fiery end.
I'm not sure what the point of this lexical vomiting is but maybe I'll find it soon. Let's have a soundtrack to our insanity, shall we?
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