We’re all completely empty inside.
We’re all absolutely isolated from one another.
There’s no hope for anyone.
But I have shed my fear of the darkness.
It’s always darkest right before it goes pitch black.
Existence is suffering. We know we exist because we suffer.
Why do we suffer?
Because we crave. It is in our nature.
Human’s don’t have a nature.
We decide exactly who we want to be.
We pretend like we’re the people we want to be.
And what if they’re making it all up, too?
Then we’re creating what’s destroying us.
The circle never breaks.
Until you die.
Your suffering ends.
We don’t know. What if that’s where it really begins?
What’s time, anyway?
Time is internal.
The ultimate being is beyond time.
Consciousness creates time.
Then how can death exist?
But it does.
And suffering, too.
Hate, violence, torture, rape, jealousy, anger, stubborn ignorance, tribal pride.
We’re such animals.
It’s all part of a system.
There is an ultimate source.
How is it that we can seek an origin greater than our own?
Because we are infinite.
Yet we die.
Maybe the consciousness is infinite.
Not while we’re alive anyway.
Being is infinite.
The stranger is infinite.
True, the other’s world is completely different than mine– not simply the opposite, for his perspective is absolutely separated from mine.
Yet we speak. We translate our divergent realities into the objective world.
Only subjectivity truly exists? The rest is an abstraction?
More like an extension.
Of our origin. Which we participate in and complete.
Then why are we destitute?
Why is there suffering?
There is suffering because there is balance.
In order to have joy, we must have suffering.
That is a conceptual resolution.
It doesn’t console the suffering.
I am suffering.
Can anyone in pain truly be consoled?
Truly, everything that suffers can be healed and made whole once more.
The realization that they were never truly separated in the first place.
The separation between joy and suffering is not simply a conceptual one.
They are different processes, yes, but by being opposites, they contain one another.
You can’t define one without implicitly defining the other, if only by negation.
So all dichotomies, all opposites, are merely different perspectives on the same thing?
Then what is the thing that we all have different perspectives on?
It’s the same thing because subjectivity is a circle.
By forming an opposition, you are creating the means to destroy it.
Yet, this separation which consciousness accomplishes is the sum total of our individual existences.
Subjectivity is separation.
Yet all separations are ultimately empty, oppositional perspectives on the same thing which cancel out and leave you with nothing.
But there isn’t nothing.
So there’s still everything.
But are we creating it in our minds or does it truly exist?
Does what exist?
Everything that exists, exists.
It’s so simple, why can’t I understand it?
That’s part of it, too.