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The children of an idle brain

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Feb. 21st, 2009 | 05:30 pm
location: on porch
mood: coldcold

I will not announce that I have single-handed come to a valid conclusion about what the definitive purpose of life is but for some time I have known that there is little beyond self-created goals and ambitious attempts to pass the time. There are early morning hours filled with the ever startling realisation— which I should not be a stranger to but continually feel confronted by—that life holds little unless we control it and give it worth. To live appreciating and documenting seems like the only option on can do to pass this lifetime, creating a body of differentiated thoughts and behavioural patterns that compliment and contradict accordingly. To pause, the stop the whirling thoughts in one’s mind and replace it with only the audible sound of one’s surroundings is the beginning perhaps to understanding the weight of existence. Moments of complete cessation of thought and physical movement is to find oneself existing on the basis of merely physically existing; the buzzing diversion of intent removed can be replaced with the foundation of our being, stripped mental framework one could define it. Our ability to think, our ability to rationalise, our ability to substantiate our human relationships are only what we divert ourselves with, a series of mechanically linked occurrences to keep from stopping and starting every time the clarity is found.

To keep from seeing the bigger picture is to focus on the small details, the favourable ones tend to distract more successfully. I live within the scheme of seeing things only in their smaller value; amounting to the bigger scope allows one to roam too erratically to be constant, to be stable. I do not wish to denounce the bigger scope in any way, only wishing to point out that it may only create more issues than it is worth. To extend on this briefly, I believe that scopes are dictated by the need on an individual, whether it be the need for a sort of stability or the need to create complication in order to create constant and ever vigilant clarity. The essence of drama may well be to produce more distractions, those of which obscured what is already obscured. 

I participate in the ongoing cycle of a distractive lifestyle; I will not claim to be of complete and utter awareness every breathing moment. To confirm, to distract is not to be frowned upon when time is every changing in its momentum. But to delve into the bigger picture every once in a while, while disconcerting I feel it is necessary for the continuance of a developing a person’s understanding of worth. I do wonder what it would feel like from another’s perspective, to only see the bigger perspective and on occasion find themselves amongst the smaller details. I wonder relentlessly


 

My thoughts are not educated; these are what are produced in an occasionally idle mind.

 


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