Think I feel a little something comin' on

Ok. I don't know how long this connection will last. If it's even there at all. But here goes:

You've got to choose your battles. In this game of life, nothing is really any more important than anything else. Just decide what it is you want to focus on and dig in. Don't be afraid or give up. Unless you want to. Then, just move on. Pick another battle. You can't die on every hill. Live to fight another day. Fight through the pain. Or don't. Run away and nurse your wounds for a while. Don't be afraid to die. What is death but the re-absorption of your individual, limited-time offer of a personality into the whole.

You exist because you struggle to exist. You exist because it's fun. You are a part of the big ocean that suddenly rises up to become a wave. How does that even happen? Events and external forces disturb the calm surface of the water causing a reaction. Wind, seismic events, cross currents, splashes from giant asteroids--in other words seemingly random natural events--conspire to create a wave, which is you. The wave takes on a life of its own. It travels great distances, changes shape, becomes a giant crest as it nears it's destination in the finite universe of its ocean, then crashes and subsides, back into the water, becoming formless. It forgets its previous existence as a wave and just sits in the big stew of water, waiting for the next random event.

Or not. I really don't know if this metaphor even holds out on its own merit, let alone equating it to the journey of an individual within the conscious collective. It is cyclical, however. You're a wave. You're the ocean. You're conscious. You're unconscious. You're everything. You're a separate individual. Light. Dark. Up. Down. In. Out. And so it goes. Is there an all encompassing consciousness, supervising the whole event? Who knows, really? Who can know this? Only the all encompassing, supervisory being. And since he's both inside and outside of the matrix of reality, encompassing the whole of existence and non-existence, who's he gonna tell? Himself? That's because he's all there is, ultimately. I'm using he, but you get the idea. The God concept. The all-that-is business.

So, he/she/it can't really do much socializing without it getting awkward. "Are you talkin' to me?" and such embarrassing posturings. So a little amnesia is in order, I suppose. A giant subterfuge called "Limited Human Perception." Let's make 'em just smart enough to know that they exist and let them figure out the rest. Maybe plant a few intuitions and basic instincts in there, you know, for survival and such. And let their basic inner true nature be a mystery, which nags at them, just a little as they go through lifetime after lifetime wondering, "What's it all about, this life thing?" Some will figure out a few things and try to pass the knowledge along. However, none of them are going to fully grasp, or come close to being able to explain the true nature of everything, given the equipment they are set up with.

Let's keep the game fun. Leave some mysteries and levels for the experts who must exit the game upon full existential awareness. Don't spoil it for everyone else. Plenty of people still think it's fun just to go on the rides and eat cotton candy. They don't want to know how the park was built or what intricate mechanisms are making the rides move about. Let everyone proceed at their own pace. Let them throw snow cones out of the gondolas if they want. Sure, some kid is gonna get slushy syrup on his shirt and it might really fuck up his day. But what's to stop him from waiting til you get off the ride and pummeling you with a corn dog? Not a goddamn thing. So, pretty much don't throw the snow cone, if you don't want a corn dog lashing, is pretty much the lesson there.

Ok, any other questions? Where do you go when you die? Who is the "you" that dies? Does that you continue to exist in some non-physical form? Why the suffering and other shit? We'll have to wait until next time to answer those and other philosophical questions, as the quarter has run out on this parking lot rodeo pony ride.

**note to critics--

"So you can suck my dick if you don't like my shit,
Cuzz I was high when I wrote this so SUCK--my DICK
Cuzz I don't give a fuck if you don't like--my shit
Cuzz I was high when I wrote this so SUCK--my DICK."

Eminem, Under the Influence


**and furthermore--

The paragraphs are simply for a visual easement and do not necessarily indicate a cohesive grouping of thoughts or serve any other purpose than to give your eyes a little break as you listen to me ramble.