| Feb. 18th, 2005 @ 03:21 pm rambling |
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Current Mood:  contemplative
Current Music: Jimmy eat world
Right now, I am eating an orange in my room. I’m sitting comfortably, not thirsty, not hungry, not under any type of duress, listening to music. Outside, it is cold. Inside, the heaters keep out the cold. At this moment, all that is needed is other people to make the picture complete. Why? Why do people feel the need to seek out others? Is it just what we are used to, the white noise of companionship we fidget without. Is it something else? Is it the very subliminal need to continue the species that makes sure we keep those of our sex and the opposite sex close by? Is it genetic hardwiring, that those who stick together end up mating successfully and producing viable offspring? Why stick together in the first place? Is it a need for safety, first from the cold dark night filled with predators, and now form the cold dark loneliness in the forest of our own imaginations? Are people just distractions we use to keep ourselves from some terrifying scene, some view of god or truth that we cover with people? Do they help us see, instead of hinder us? Do we need them for their sake or for ours, the way you would use a mirror on yourself is different form how you use a magnifying glass on something else. DO we use people so we have some creature besides ourselves to emote over. Do we wish to have emotions used at us? Do we make them the same as us as we use them, or are we changing ourselves? Is it neither, but some type of search for a common measure between two souls? Is it not an abhorrence of loneliness that drives us together but some type of push. What push would drive people together? Is it just somehow nature that pushes? Is it habit? Is it culture? Preference? Sex? Memory? Imitation? We start out our life as part of something else, is our need of others just a continuation of our beginning. We were fed, warm, and sated in womb. Do we associate this and another person with happiness? Contemplation in womb, scary thought. What is it, what is it about another person that makes you want to reach out and pull their hair, or tell them a joke or kiss them. What is it? Is it just the fact that we started out as something simple, something that was, presumably, one, and we continue looking for this one-ness, even when divided. Are we just all trees torn asunder, or shattered pottery shards, looking for where we fit, because it was a fact that we did fit. Why fit? Is it because it is comfortable? Not stretched out, and not smashed in. Do we like that sense of “that is the way it should be”. Why do we want subjunctives in our lives? Why do we want a future that is already in a way set out? Why rules? Is it because we scared of the endless horizon that the future presents, and we want freedom from this fear, which somehow turns into freedom from freedom itself, because it is just too big for us? Is it too big because we are alone? Why do we feel better by giving up pieces of our horizon, to share it with another, or with many others, because this is what philosophies and laws and religions do, limit the horizon and put people next to you in the field. Why do we enjoy freedom from choice? Why do we fear responsibilities for ourselves. Does it go back to our weightless, thoughtless beginning, and our vain reaching for that? Is it right? Should we limit out horizons? Should we have a sense of what is right, or as it should be. And the ideas of how it should be for an action that only may happen hurts my head. Is that why we stop. Does it hurt to think and to choose too much. Does it frighten us to choose our own horizons as we move, because we are moving, walking toward this line that changes as we approach it. Are we looking for a map, is that what all this is about, another person as a map and companion in a road you do not understand or know the route of. We never really left the woods in the first place it seems, we still wander them, lambs, wolves, red riding hoods and woodcutters all just wandering around the woods towards a horixzon that might or might not be there on a trail that could be a trail or a dried up river bed or just a happy or unhappy lack of vegetation in a strip of land. Herd when scared, when afraid and unsure, because there is the faintest chance that one of the herd has a notion of what is going on, even though a mob is as intelligent as its dumbest person, its strong, and perhaps one person can hold onto himself and that mob and keep us safe. And we would be angry maybe, remembering that old horizon. Too many people leaves far too much room for too many mistakes. Too few inbreed, in notions and in bodies. The rigtht amount too many times turns out to be the wrong amount, all in this road that’s probably a circle anyway. Maybe its not the trip but the company and the stories and the meals and the fights, and how can you find these but if not the trip. Circles, circles, circles. |
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