It's a Good Thing No One Reads These

So I had this thought see...

I keep trying to find the rhythm to this life. But somewhere along the way, I seem to get lost in its syncopations. It's like listening to a song that keeps twisting and turning, chorus becomes verse, verse becomes bridge, bridge... something else entirely. And no matter how hard I try to control my little world, it keeps eluding definition.

I have, for the longest time, found feeling to be a difficult thing. There's probably more than one reason for that, but let me over-simplify this by saying that the more you understand about the possibilities that life presents, the more difficult it can become to choose just one of those possibilities and actually think it special or worthy of attention. One man's verse is another's chorus I suppose.

It's not as if I disbelieve in real definition. No, only in finite systems can you really find this blasphemous complexity. God may say that his mind is beyond comprehension and understanding, but I would wager that such infinity is bound by real lines. And that's just it. The insulting reality is that the universe does end (in whatever way), yet it is still altogether infinite to you and I. How much more a slap in the face to be told that life doesn't fit into your box because it is infinite, but still fitting within the finite reality of its maker? It is humiliating to see the end of your wisdom fall so completely short of the truth.

But where does that leave us as we peruse our goals, our ends? I'd like to label my plight with nice well-defined rules that clearly delineate what is possible and what isn't. But, it just doesn't work that way. We must act knowing little to nothing. Faith as it were. It is with the barest hint of insanity that life laughs at us and our problems. Only a madman could have made a world like this--a beautiful, brilliant madman.

Freedom is as illustrious as it is terrifying.