Homespun philosophies...
Jun. 14th, 2007 10:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
calimeLife is death is time is flow. Or possibly a bubble. 42 by any other name, yet still smells as sweet.
When was one’s moment of birth? At the first breath or at the frantic swish of a lucky sperm’s tail? Or at some point when one ape looked longingly at another’s butt? Or when two cells met in the primordial ooze and decided collectivisation is the cool way to go? When the space exploded? When does one begin to die? Oh, oops, isn’t the answer both 'when alive' and 'constantly'?
Everything keeps being born and dying at the same time, every nanofraction of the time. Gives new meaning to 'labour pains', doesn’t it? It’s a seamless integration, no boundaries in between other than those we ourselves try to create, to 'divide' time and arbitrarily name it an hour, a minute, life, death. It’s not a road either – one cannot step aside and stop, nor is there a sign coming up that says "Death: 2 km. Drive carefully!"
The smart way to go is to relax in the flow. Flailing only gets you water up the nose. I mean, look at the cats. They glide in time and hence are very rarely seen to flounder and splutter and cough in an undignified way, grasping for landmarks that aren’t there.
If it continues this way, I might even write something fanficcy sometime. I mean, try to channel the flow of the logorrhoea from brain to itchy fingertips into something more ... coherent? Universally useful? Which would probably be good for me. Yes, I really don't think much about poor innocent bystanders who might happen to read the results ... it's all about my satisfaction *g*. Sorry. I never said I was nice, did I?
When was one’s moment of birth? At the first breath or at the frantic swish of a lucky sperm’s tail? Or at some point when one ape looked longingly at another’s butt? Or when two cells met in the primordial ooze and decided collectivisation is the cool way to go? When the space exploded? When does one begin to die? Oh, oops, isn’t the answer both 'when alive' and 'constantly'?
Everything keeps being born and dying at the same time, every nanofraction of the time. Gives new meaning to 'labour pains', doesn’t it? It’s a seamless integration, no boundaries in between other than those we ourselves try to create, to 'divide' time and arbitrarily name it an hour, a minute, life, death. It’s not a road either – one cannot step aside and stop, nor is there a sign coming up that says "Death: 2 km. Drive carefully!"
The smart way to go is to relax in the flow. Flailing only gets you water up the nose. I mean, look at the cats. They glide in time and hence are very rarely seen to flounder and splutter and cough in an undignified way, grasping for landmarks that aren’t there.
If it continues this way, I might even write something fanficcy sometime. I mean, try to channel the flow of the logorrhoea from brain to itchy fingertips into something more ... coherent? Universally useful? Which would probably be good for me. Yes, I really don't think much about poor innocent bystanders who might happen to read the results ... it's all about my satisfaction *g*. Sorry. I never said I was nice, did I?
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Date: 2007-06-15 03:24 am (UTC)What is the first moment of life is a completely different story. Could be when you first get a name, or find out who you are really. Or maybe it's when the sperm meets the egg.