Life, How Strange...
Friday, October 08, 2004
Isn't life a strange thing?
In a universe void of life, this speck of sand permits emotion, art, creativity, motorcycles. Is there anywhere else that thees things exist?
How strange it is to have memories of events, people, places. How strange it is that even such things are memorable. And then, even so, to taint our memories with our emotions, experiences, creating a character unique to an individual. This speck of sand within a speck of sand permits tiny variations of some same universal truths.
How deep does this rabbit hole go?
Isn't nothingness a strange thing?
Everything we know, feel, see, all that is sensible lost to nothing, gained from nothing. We cannot even fathom the true depth of nothingness because even as we imagine it, there is a black void, and a black void is still something; not quite nothing. How strage it is to write off everything that we know, experience or sense simply because one day it may happen.
How strange it is, that we are given life, and to us it is everything, but out in the grand scheme of things, it has little value; that to a God who is omnipresent can simply blink and participate in nothingness, blink again and indulge in life.
How strange it is to ponder such things...
In a universe void of life, this speck of sand permits emotion, art, creativity, motorcycles. Is there anywhere else that thees things exist?
How strange it is to have memories of events, people, places. How strange it is that even such things are memorable. And then, even so, to taint our memories with our emotions, experiences, creating a character unique to an individual. This speck of sand within a speck of sand permits tiny variations of some same universal truths.
How deep does this rabbit hole go?
Isn't nothingness a strange thing?
Everything we know, feel, see, all that is sensible lost to nothing, gained from nothing. We cannot even fathom the true depth of nothingness because even as we imagine it, there is a black void, and a black void is still something; not quite nothing. How strage it is to write off everything that we know, experience or sense simply because one day it may happen.
How strange it is, that we are given life, and to us it is everything, but out in the grand scheme of things, it has little value; that to a God who is omnipresent can simply blink and participate in nothingness, blink again and indulge in life.
How strange it is to ponder such things...