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I've often thought of ways to prove that environments of the world, outside of my view, operate consistently despite my lack of participation. I can see what things I manipulate and I also take a lot of credit for things I can't see but think they might have been caused or affected by my manipulations. Things which involve, or occur to me, which do not fall into the above categories get a lot of my attention. They are proofs that things I cannot be aware of, operate on a consistent time regimen and I exist on a parallel regimen, if not the same.
Most importantly they are the things which have more power than my manipulations. At least in the sense that they can demand audience. There are things which will take away your freedom to ignore them. Human conciousness's one governing body. (does it have a name?)
Death of a
loved
or hated one, acknowledgement of my own mortality, discovery that a dream has become unattainable are examples that point themselves out. The receiving of genuine appreciation and hatred, as well as complete indifference to my life are the less obvious examples. Take this entry from my guestbook on April Fool's Day:
I can see you laughing and pointing at me. Laughing and pointing, pointing and laughing. Quit looking at me, what do you want from me? What did I do to you? I will physically beat and rape you until you don't know your own name. Fuck Off! (p.s. I keyed your car!)
It takes my attention no matter the perspective from which I choose to read it.
What does this lack of control mean in our strategy to achieve a certain level of fulfillment? Nothing. It makes no difference whether we wish to pretend that the world freezes and rearranges upon our exit from it or acknowledge that life operates independently of our conciousness and we are passengers on the Ship of Fools, our mortality is emminent and risk is the only thing which allows for life to reward us. There is no time for fear. [insert abused Dead Poets Society quote here]
Let us stumble upon those tapes of ocean waves, upon which surf the words, "I will not burn the daylight." into the beach of our subconcious.
Timber.
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