2003-06-08 - 8:37 p.m.
There are days when even thinking is too hard. A day that wails that it must be spent waiting for life to approach you. Such a day when the donned and vested liveries do not befit the king that bears them, but in the evening purview, when the light brushes away its daily fame, jerks the tears of those who cannot claim a cent retrieved, nor a cent dispensed. Were the world a perfect place, this knowledge would be shared among the rich, the decrepit, the poor, and the youth. Were this a perfect place, the cents dispensed and the cents retrieved would be communal and the approach of life would not be necessary. The world turns and these days approach and retire. Those who gain the knowledge and the vision at the end of such days continue to be, as they have always been in the history of man, those of the aged, whose knowledge is soon interred and never shared. And as such those who care not for the knowledge continue to wait for life, and recieve it when most of it has passed in days waiting. And soon, too, they are interred, for it would be the liberating knowledge were it gained in youth and dispensed as thought it were the cents of old and the cents of new. It would be the face of God for one who could bear it in the eyes of their fellow. It would be to do no harm and love conquers all in a blinding flash. And when the day sets and dawns again, life arrives and never parts.
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People do not understand how incredibly, incredibly fortunate they are to be the way they are. We have a mind set up unimaginably well-designed to defend against loss of self or loss of control, or loss of reason. And yet, it is not fullproof. There are lapses in reason and control. There is loss of self. It is plausible that hell must be perpetual life without this defense and no one to save you from the ravages of the situation. People do not think about this scenario. People should. It helps to put life into a perspective to thank the designer of this system, for without it, human life would last only a moment. This line of thought can go on much much longer, but it is difficult enough contemplating this alone (in both senses of the word).
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"Mankind shall not be free until the last king is strangled in the entrails of the last priest."
"The philosopher has never killed any priests, whereas the priest has killed a great many philosophers."
--Denis Diderot
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