But then, he realized that he hadn’t actually been replaced….it had never even been his part to play. He was the odd one out. The anomaly. And the other was meant to be with them. It was always going to be that way, ten times out of ten. And that was both an easier and sadder truth to accept. He just thought it was nice to finally feel like he belonged. Like he was home. That realization was the spark that kindled the fire of his heartache. It was fierce…and cold. But then again, he thought…he’d always liked the cold, hadn’t he? Perhaps then, it was fitting. Things would change. Something else would reveal itself, inevitably. And it need not be better or worse. It could just be. Everything just was. That too was a sad commentary. But truth…truth sometimes is that way.
It was a dark, full-moon night. The light of the moon outshone the light of many stars, but still….on a night like this, and in a place such as this, there were a myriad left to be seen. Little holes of heavenly light, poking through the dark veil of night, offering fleeting glimpses of a world beyond. He sat and watched the surface of the water, striving to understand it..to become one with it..to know it. Black and raw, it reflected the sky so perfectly…so seamlessly…that it was as if there were two moons, two skies, one above and one below, and merely a thin slice of earth in between them. He leaned over the water and drew his fingers lightly across its surface. And suddenly the reflection and everything he could see was gone, and in its place, he saw water. He reflected upon that for a moment. This was water. This…this..moving, undulating, shining, glimmering, energetic entity..was water. In its stillness, the lake had seemed surreal. But now, thrown into motion, it suddenly had the life that was so characteristic of water. He lifted his hand a few feet above the water, and let it hang there, drooping down. After a few moments he sighed and flicked his index and middle fingers upwards. And in perfect synchrony, the water followed. A thin line of water flew up, wrapped itself around his fingers, and stayed there. With another flick, he straightened his fingers out, and the water shot forward and fell back down into the lake with a plop! sending larger ripples than before flying across the lake’s surface. Every life is just so. A ripple, and naught more, moving upon a vast lake. The lake is so large that at times it may seem infinite. But how is the ripple cognizant of this fact? Even so..perhaps it feels, and it experiences. What is important to remember, however, is that the existence of the ripple is transient..evanescent…fleeting. The ripple, blissfully ignorant of the brevity of its life, seeks a sort of permanence. Perhaps it seeks to be immortalized through its actions…or through its words, or thoughts, or experiences. And maybe one day, the ripple achieves its goal. Maybe one day, it finds it has finally achieved permanence….memory. And its conviction is unshakable. Now tell me…what is the reality? Is the ripple’s evanescence relevant? If only the ripple exists to perceive, is it’s understanding of its permanence, and moreover, of its reality false? Is it not relative? Ignorance truly is bliss. But the bliss of ignorance is but a shadow. Those who experience it can never know of it, and those who know of it can never experience it. But even so, those who know of it would never trade what they do know in its place so that they may know it, and those who know it could never trade it, simply because they can never know of it. And how can one consciously trade away something one doesn’t know one has?
He sighed again, deeper this time. Every night he would come down to the lake to reflect (pun intended), and to engage in introspection. But he never found anything of value to walk away with. It seemed as though the water stole away his interest in inquiry, and his hope of finding answers. And yet he returned each night. Because the lake was so beautiful…so…pure..that it was worth the loss of one more shard of his already fractured hope, for him to, sitting on the banks, drown himself in its purity and search. Each night he came back to slide down to the waterbed, and watch the moon from underneath the surface of the lake as it shimmered and waved, while his lungs filled with water, his breath floated away, and his worldly existence ceased. He must have died a thousand times over..every night. It was a rush. Addicting. He looked down at his hands, restless. His heart quickened its pace. He had to know. He needed a release..he needed closure…he needed something new, something true. Truth…hmph…does it even exist? He’d have to find out later. Once again, it was becoming too much to sit there alone. He stared at his forearm. Angry lines ran across its width, all over. Smooth scar tissue had grown there. Some of the scars were small, nothing more than fine lines, drawn onto his arm. Others were larger…deeper. He brushed his fingers against his arm, over the scars, and read the story written there, for the nth time. But that all seemed a lifetime away now. With a final sigh, he heaved himself up and began walking away, up the grassy knoll, towards whatever lay beyond its crest. He’d never walked this way before. But tonight was a night for something new, seeing as how he had no one around to be with anyway. He stopped halfway up the hill to take a last, lingering look at the moon. His eyes focused quickly, revealing its many craters and holes…its intricate landscape. He blinked twice, and turned. And walked.
I’d love to drown. I’d love to be back in front of the ocean that October night of last year. But this time it would be different. This time I wouldn’t be escaping. This time, he stepped forth, ready for the first time. Ready to live and die and love and cry and be everything anything could ever be. His body sunk into the water. The waves crashed around him, battering him against the seabed, pressing him down, emptying the air from his lungs. The tide dragged his body out to sea, and there, at the bottom of the ocean, it floated. Still. Illuminated by the faint glow of the full moon. And for the first time in his life, he experienced peace. He watched his life drift away, and he smiled. He smiled for all the joy and tears, the pain, the sweat, the loss, the gains, the love, the anger, the knowledge, the feelings, the thoughts, for life. And he left, and without a glance backwards, he found what he had been searching for all along. All the answers, all the questions, everything. It was done. It was beginning. It was. And is. And will be.
How is it possible to love a person so much that without them, your life seems entirely meaningless and worthless? How is it possible to love a person so much that after you’ve said goodbye you find food and drink tasteless and displeasing? How is it possible to love a person so much that a year after your last kiss..last caress…last journey into his/her eyes, your feelings are unchanged, and if anything, stronger than ever? And how is it possible for a person you love this much to not love you the same way? How is it possible for this person to smile at you..unaware of the intoxicating, exhilarating, unbelievably powerful effect it has on you?
He wore what he always did..a hoodie, over a dark gray t-shirt and dark blue jeans. He packed his books into his bag and left the library. As the door closed behind him, he looked ahead and saw the vast school corridor. It was a dark day. The hallways were empty..the school abandoned. It felt so surreal. And as he took a step forward, he noticed for the first time a hand interlocked with his own. He looked to his right, and saw her. And he smiled. And she smiled too. And they turned and began walking. And he was complete. He was strong. Nothing existed in that moment save the two of them, walking, holding hands, smiling. And in their smiles was all the sunlight the day needed. The landscape dropped away, and they kept walking. Time ended, and they kept walking. Existence ceased, and they kept walking. And they kept walking. And they kept walking.
She moved. She danced. Her toes never stayed on the ground for long. For us, it is ever present. Gravity pulls us toward it..holds us to it, binds us to it. She did not know such a thing. She chose to stay in the air longer. Her anklets bounced..jingled, the clash of soft metal bells against one another. Her body began here and ended there, her eyes spoke of eternity..of a permanent impermanence, fleeting, transient, evanescent, as a ripple across a lake, and as a light breeze, brushing gently across one’s face..creating a memory in an instant..leaving an unforgettable impression, lifting the greatest of weights. In her footsteps sprouted creepers, winding, flowing, chasing, reaching, climbing. And in her sighs were contained the most violent tempests and the most gentle zephyrs. In her every breath the world was destroyed and born again. A glance from her eyes set volcanoes afire, and awoke the torrents of the heart. And as her eyelids closed, existence ceased, existence slept. She flew through the trees and bushes..sweeping, creating. She was all that was in the forest. And in the forest, beauty moved.
I think maybe the people whom we love are reflections of who we are, where we’ve been, and what we’ve experienced…I guess that means we could, if we wanted to, look at the people we love, and gauge ourselves and our pasts based on who they are. I’ve not given much thought to what that makes me.
So I guess I’ve accepted the possibility that we may never know anything…I don’t know what to do now though..if i walk away from philosophy, does that mean I’m giving up? That’s what whatshisface thought in the reading group I attend on fridays…but I dunno. I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I’ve been trying to live day to day, but it is so damn hard..so hard..yeah, I’ve been feeling better..a lot better..since last year..but is it really better? by which i mean…is the change good? There was a martyrdom of sorts to the nature of my living over the past year, but now..life just feels so stagnant. Another ripple on the vast surface of the ocean am I, evanescent and fleeting, and yet so desperate for meaning. What is the value of one ripple? What is the value of a wave? Tomorrow I’ll be 85 and dying, and when I’m gone, the ocean will still be there. The ripple will be gone from the surface, the water that composed it in the form of another, hundred trillionth ripple.The ocean is there, and the ripples are all naught more than the frenzied energy it contains, manifested in what appears to be physical form. But the reality might be different. How can we ever know? Carneades, the great skeptic once said, “Nothing can be known, not even this.”
So is it so wrong to want nothing more to do with philosophy? All my life, I’ve been searching for nothing but certainty, only to find today that it may not be reachable. That which we experience is, until proven, only a probable reality, if that. How do we then conceive of certainty? How has humanity conceived of something it may never achieve? Through ignorance? Through ignorance perhaps, is born the only true knowledge?
I want to run away…I want to run, and keep running until the world falls away from under my feet…until the sun stops rising, until light itself stops following…until I die..and even past death…until eternity ends…until nothing exists…and even past existence…until nothing…until everything…and even past that…these thoughts are chasing me there..they’re chasing me away from happiness, away from purpose, away from life…
Now I remember why I wanted to kill myself. It wasn’t because I felt like a failure…it wasn’t because of my heartache..it was because of my lack of meaning..of purpose..of life. I was already dead. All that was left was the formality of making it official.
There isn’t a word to describe this misery. I can’t state that any more clearly…THERE IS NO WORD FOR THIS.
I live every day drowning myself in work and exercise…getting drunk on comedy and fantasy…high on presumably-but-not-certainly false realities..pursuing a carnal escape from the despondency of my existence, uncertain as it is…and for what? What is this? and Why? Why is this?
Life has changed a lot for me since the last time I wrote on here. I find that with a strange combination of regret and reluctance, I can say that it has gotten more enjoyable—maybe even what one might call better. I’m happier. I haven’t *** in a long time..and haven’t felt like doing it either. I’ve been getting out of the house almost daily, and working, exercising, doing things. I haven’t been around people as much as I’d like, but that’s more for a lack of people to be around than a result of my own volition. But overall things have been good. I’ve been trying to live life one day at a time, without giving too much thought to the future…without releasing my thoughts and anxieties from their dungeon. It hasn’t been easy but I’m slowly managing to get lost in routine. I just..feel really alone, that’s the only problem.
I have been attending a reading group of late, led by my philosophy professor, and also attended by some of her other past students. Which is nice—who doesn’t love feeling like a completely asinine imbecile for an hour and a half every week? It’s just great. One of the kids there was what I deemed to be legitimately angry that I suggested we cannot just accept the law of noncontradiction as an axiom. I was merely stating that logic itself may not be an entirely trustworthy companion on the path to discovering truth—if senses can be doubted, why not thought itself? Granted, it isn’t practical, but there are many more “practical” ways of living than philosophizing non-stop as it is.
I think it would be nice to feel good about myself…body..personality..attributes, etc… for once. To actually be able to walk out into the world, confident and carefree….indifferent to the opinions and judgements of the masses, taking flight toward the end. The ultimate end. Telos.
I think that’ll be all for now. Ill be back soon, hopefully.