Lately I have not been able to retain any theoretical explanation for what we linguistically call life. Every explanation seems to fall at the complexity of consciousness and form in a mind boggling spiral down the quantum wormhole of transience. Where in this seemingly limitless phenomenon of existence do we find limit and meaning? It certainly can't come from words or thought. Before the thought or the word catches the moment it has passed and transformed into something new. It seems to be that complete empiricism only exists within a logical framework that is separate from reality itself, as reality bends to the perception of the observer in only a slightly defined way. Words and thought seemingly become but poems and distraction to the escapade of existence as it unfolds in a plethora of seasons and colors treasured only to those who see past distortions. Is there truly any other purpose besides marveling at this paradox of human reason? It seems knowing this starts the beginning of a whole new life..which before only stood on the shores of a mystery..exotic and sublime but beyond prior intentions..
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