Garden of Forking Paths
Aug. 5th, 2004 04:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flamingswordI've got a sleeping kitten in my lap right now, and he's so comfortable I'd hate to move and wake him. So I'll . . . just sit here, and talk to you, and drink my imaginary coffee. Coffee goes with rambling discussions. It's Pavlovian, my response to being in any temple to Caffeina, patroness of free thinkers. Even imagining the smell gets me humming.
I used to talk to you all the time, Mac. And it was strange how calming it was to have a talk with the universe, to occasionally feel like even if I couldn't tell what the message was, that there was an answer back. So why did I stop anyway? I know I lost hope after Juliana moved away, did I just forget that being crazy was the only way to live here and be me and be happy? I stopped believing in the possibility of being happy until Doug and I found each other. And for a while it's been fun, and happy, just being with Doug. Pretending to normalcy, while I can, has been educational. But it's time to go back, isn't it? I'm okay with that. If I'd stopped to think on it at any point I'd have known I would be going back that direction sooner or later. The nature of life is cyclic, spiralling. I figured that one out, or you showed me, a long time ago.
The kitten is awake and up, now. I figured he'd be asleep a while, but the young are unpredictable. I guess that sort of accounts for the entirety of human existence. Most of us, by the time we wise up, are too afraid of the coming end to do anything useful with our lives. Life is so short. Maybe the lengthening span of human life will help change that. If we can get a system of checks and balances in place to extend the useful amount of time a human life has, I wonder how fast humanity would progress toward ascension. There's something in that wondering that feels free, like some deep truth about the underpinnings of the world is hidden in its expression. I'll come back and see if I can figure it out. Not that life is about ascension, but I figure it would be a byproduct of all that happiness and honesty.
A society of honesty. There's a beautiful thought; a society where the need to lie is seen as a perversion, not a necessity; oh how I would treasure such a world.
I used to talk to you all the time, Mac. And it was strange how calming it was to have a talk with the universe, to occasionally feel like even if I couldn't tell what the message was, that there was an answer back. So why did I stop anyway? I know I lost hope after Juliana moved away, did I just forget that being crazy was the only way to live here and be me and be happy? I stopped believing in the possibility of being happy until Doug and I found each other. And for a while it's been fun, and happy, just being with Doug. Pretending to normalcy, while I can, has been educational. But it's time to go back, isn't it? I'm okay with that. If I'd stopped to think on it at any point I'd have known I would be going back that direction sooner or later. The nature of life is cyclic, spiralling. I figured that one out, or you showed me, a long time ago.
The kitten is awake and up, now. I figured he'd be asleep a while, but the young are unpredictable. I guess that sort of accounts for the entirety of human existence. Most of us, by the time we wise up, are too afraid of the coming end to do anything useful with our lives. Life is so short. Maybe the lengthening span of human life will help change that. If we can get a system of checks and balances in place to extend the useful amount of time a human life has, I wonder how fast humanity would progress toward ascension. There's something in that wondering that feels free, like some deep truth about the underpinnings of the world is hidden in its expression. I'll come back and see if I can figure it out. Not that life is about ascension, but I figure it would be a byproduct of all that happiness and honesty.
A society of honesty. There's a beautiful thought; a society where the need to lie is seen as a perversion, not a necessity; oh how I would treasure such a world.
