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Wednesday the 28th of June 2017 @ 04:48am
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Filed Under: Journal - General

Man. In a weird place.

I'm spending a lot of time in that weird place these days.

It's about disconnection. Disconnection from responsibility, disconnection from creativity. Disconnection from reality.

On a day to day I have no want, not really. I have the money I need for everything I need and most everything I want. Simple things, anyway. I can't go out and buy the things I'd like but I can certainly go buy food if I want it. I can buy Smokes. I can buy beer. Hell, probably buy women. The only thing stopping me there is morality.

Morality is an interesting topic. I've been rather plagued by questions of the irrelevancy of conscience lately. Once you finally accept that there is no God, what does morality and conscience mean, really? I mean, once you finally step fully into atheist from agnostic there is a certain chain reaction of realizations connected to that. No small part of those realizations is the true acceptance of the unimportance of life entire.

Walk down the street and find someone. Twist their head off. The context of their pain and suffering ends when they die. True, the pain and suffering of their family continues on for some amount of time, but once their lives end the full context of X's death ends.

Think about that. The entire reality of a life and death concluded. When the full context concludes there is absolutely, positively no further impact on the remaining contexts. There is interaction in so far that somebody two thousand years from now might trip over their gravestone and break a futuristic neck, but there is no real or conclusive effect. Certainly there is no impact on the person who's gravestone broke said neck. AND With that said what possible affect could our lives have on others? None, effectively. We may touch a thousand people, a million people or even a billion people, but our reality is only as expansive as our own perception of it. Namely, when we die that brings an end to our perception and therefor an end of our interaction with this reality.

To say that there is an end to our interaction with this reality of course implies that we begin to interact with another reality; ... but imagine though that we don't. Try for a second. Just sit down, close your eyes and try to imagine with every last facet of your imagination the fact of no longer existing in any context. None. Not even your own. To be without even your own perceptions of the events around you. No smells. No selfish-satisfaction. No love. No sex. No passion or contempt or compassion. No ... you.

And yet in this myriad of realizations try to have the pretence and structure to care about... say... politics. Try to care about morality. Try to care about your fish, your house or your debts. Try to care about your cats or your parents or your acne.

No reality beyond your own perception of it and yet we care about these things. We care about it with the veracity of a mother protecting her child, which is as equally undefendable.

A familiar tune. A combination of frequencies of air pressure modulation. It makes us cry. It make me cry. Did the creator of those frequencies transcend the finality of absolute non-existence? Did they? Is there any facet of their perception hanging in the air when we play back those modulations? Certainly our perception permeates the air, but does the artist's? I doubt that.

They touch us. They bring us one step closer to God; and they are absolutely vanished from any realm of self-perception. Does that constitute a joke?

In the end there's no one left to laugh.

Does that constitute a joke, too?

And yet, I see trees of green, red roses too.
I see them bloom, for me and you.
And I think to myself. What a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue and clouds of white.
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night;
and think to myself, what a wonderful world.

I see friends shaking hands, saying "how do you do?"
They're really saying "I love you."

So complicated and beautiful is a rose; was that really created for no reason? So beautiful and completely fantastic is the sunrise, or the sunset; so absolutely breathtaking is a rainbow. Does it really exist only to exist and to provide no deeper meaning, even though so many find so much meaning in it?

Maybe it. Maybe they were. Simple physical and astrological and optigraphic and pornographic effects perceived as more than they are only because of our shared social and evolutionary growth.

The colours of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky;
are also on the faces of people going by.

I see friends shaking hands, saying "how do you do?"
They're really saying "I love you."

I hear babies cry. I watch them grow;
they'll learn much more than I'll ever know.

Maybe. A word I use a lot. A word specifically designed to be ambiguous in purpose and meaning. Using 'maybe' lets you say all sorts of things and take them back the next day. Using 'maybe' lets you pretend that you never made assertion 'A'. Using 'maybe' is safe.

Maybe our reality isn't defined by our perceptions. Maybe our reality isn't even defined by our progenitors perceptions. Maybe there isn't a gate to Heaven. Maybe there aren't portcullis guarding Hell.

Maybe we just are. And MAYBE that's ok.

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

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