c r a w l i n t o t h e u n k n o w n
"in the ill-judged execution of the well judged plan of things, the call seldom produces the comer, the man to love seldom coincides with the hour of loving. nature does not say "see!" to her poor creature at a time when seeing can lead to happy doing, or reply "here!" to a body's cry of "where?" till the hide-and-seek has become an irksome, outworn game. we may wonder whether at the acme and summit of human progress these anachronisms will be corrected by a finer intuition, a closer interaction of the social machinery that which now jolts us round and along; but such completeness is not even to be prophesised or even conceived as possible. enough that in the present case, as in millions, it was not the two halves of perfect whole that confronted each other at the perfect moment; a missing counterpart wandered independently about the earth waiting in crass obtuseness till the late time came out of which maladroit delay sprang anxieties, dissapointments, shocks, catastrophes, and passing strange destinies."
it's not a mindless
indiffernt
blind universe...
it never was.
get used to it.
^gabriel^
