Some more musings

Human beings have been cursed with an intelligence that creates a desire for a meaningful life without the existential knowledge to know how to do that outside of the primal need to procreate. Being fundamentally unable to cope with that conflict, the brain creates a filter for the world to make it make more sense. It identifies the struggle as soon as it has developed enough, before it even becomes a conscious thought, and begins to filter all incoming information from the world around it so that it can seem to have a mastery over it, to feel control, however false it may be. And that grows into a perception that essentially gives you an entirely different universe than anyone else. There is no one who can see anything for what it “really” is, though people try; the monk’s meditation, the stoner’s drugs, the scientist’s night spent staring at stars or cells; but it will always be altered by our inability to handle the knowledge thrust upon us. This great mockery of our arrogance. We exclaim, “Look at all we know!” while ignoring the infinitely more profound and complex things we could never hope to, and who’s gravity literally warps the fabric of “reality” around us. As pitiful and insignificant as this may make us, as terrifying and difficult as it is, it’s also in a huge way a beautiful experience for us. This may not be what “real” can be called, but if no one can see that anyway, it doesn’t really exist does it? What you have is all of existence before you, ready to be experienced and explored in a way that no one else has ever or will be able to do, because they aren’t you. But it still has enough in common with other people’s universes, or perceptions thereof, to overlap and create shared experiences. And when you do that, when you interact with people in any way, you are sending ripples though an entirely different universe, even so far as to change how that person perceives things that they have already experienced. You are a god, acting blindly upon things you can’t see, because of forces you can’t conceive, on infinite worlds around you, because you can’t handle the truth, and the truth is this. You are not only have the potential to be the most important thing to everyone and everything you meet, you often are whether you try to be or not, and you are the least important thing to changing your own perception because that requires effort, and all it takes is an offhand comment from someone else. Everyone is in this position, everyone has this power. Everyone is unique, but no one is special. You spend your days wading through a sea of the most beautiful cosmic tapestry of constantly evolving, overlapping, and colliding universes, and you have to try your hardest to even see your own for what it is, the joke that is human knowledge.

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Some more musings

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