i was going to compose a long and eloquent body, but i lost my ambition and all incentive, instead found myself somewhat disappointed in myself that i was, again, attempting to justify myself instead of just accepting the way things are. always comparing, trying to figure it out, trying to force it to make sense in my admittedly meager, conscious, mortal mind. there is so much i cannot know for certain, it's almost like knowing nothing at all.
accepting that, all i can really hold onto is what i sense. not even what i see, or what i hear, but what my entirety whispers to me, through all the layers of ignorance. even though that as well may not be what i think, it's the closest i can come to certainty. and as a human, i seem intrinsically geared towards holding on to SOMETHING to keep from... who knows? insanity perhaps. death. or INhumanity.
the difficult part of this acceptance of intuition is that it is (as far as i can see) heavily (if not entirely) born of my own life's experiences. knowing that my experiences vary so radically from everyone else's, that all our lives are held together by our humanity and yet so completely separate in their uniqueness... a constant reminder that there is no discernible objective ANYTHING, much less truth.... well, i'm not sure what exactly this awareness does to me, but i have a feeling it's something nervous and anxious and doubtful and timid.... ah,but then i suppose this is the balance maintained.
ka like a wind.
