I got alot of candy for Easter. You know, I feel kinda bad for riding this wave of materialism in exploiting Easter as a commercial holiday. But well, I'm still kind of agnostic. I mean, I just don't know. Like...I think that maybe...no. Religion is touchy. So touchy I'm not going to touch this with a forty foot pole. And well, I have been doing easter egg hunts for my entire life. I can't stop now! And candy is so great and beneficial to the taste buds!
Ah the jellybeans are so wonderfully fruity! And the peanut butter eggs just melt in your mouth! And whatever else is in there I'm not really sure; all i know is that I just eat them! I don't care!
So maybe great writing comes from a three dimensional understanding of the world that you have to live to acquire. But I haven't seen much! More than most, but not much! And maybe great writing comes from the incredible power and experience of love...but I do not know love! Romantic love, that is. Maybe I know others very well. And then maybe great writing comes from great sadness...a sadness that I may know, but have only touched on, as I have never lived in outright poverty or under the hand of an abusive tyrant, or I have never experienced the unreal loss of a lover or child. That sadness, ah, how deep it goes. That is a cold, cold iceberg that I know only the tip of. So what the hell do I write about? But there are these things in my head that beg for release...and I should let them out for fear of great stress...or worse! Great madness! I have seen the introductions and the thresholds of great madness, and it is that experience that drives me away from the darkest depths of that stuff.
Oh, what are these mysteries that elude us?
Years ago I was under the impression that I could get through life without coming into conflict with anyone. If I could keep to myself then maybe I could avoid confrontation all together! But it was doomed to fail because life which is so vivid and fantastic has a costly admission. Taking up space is the price you have to pay to walk in this place. I take up space, and therefore I will always be in someone's way. It is you or them. You must fight to survive! That is how organisms have survived in these hostile conditions for so long.
And what a perfect design all this matter follows.
Perfect is now. How incredible is it to be sitting here using your eyes and smelling and touching and hearing and tasting and breathing and thinking! It is inconceivable. And to think, you can lose your admission and never see this place again. That is what makes death so terrifying. And behold...the power is in our very hands to determine the admission of someone else! What an injustice. What if they don't deserve to be here anymore...but who can decide such a thing?
END!
