Thursday, March 23, 2006

Hiya!

Warning: Thinky/weird post of my internal ramblings.


Here I am, in the abyss of me..I guess I must see the outcome(the concept of my abyss); I mean, if I can label something, is everything that I say and do based on a faith that I sometimes subscribe to?

Maybe I am just another lonely god in a universe that I have created for no one?!

I felt the need to read up on a little Friedrich Nietzsche:

"One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star."

Are we the essence of something so very self containing, but we don't know how to control? OR, are we caged animals in a cell, wondering what holds us here, thus the "chaos in oneself...give birth to a dancing star"?

If you only had one choice, between being something that contains(like a box) or the thing contained within, what would you choose?

What I am wanting to compare is that of existance to essence. Is existance just the box that contains the essence of something? Or does existance exist because of itself thus cancelling out the idea of essence, because one is the other?Therefore making the concept of something contained and the containment, nonexistant....

Do we look too deep into matters? Heck, I know I do, but how deep is deep? I mean, have I reached the core of the earth now or have I landed into a different dimension?

The stars are the blueprints of our existance, so many believe. But let's take it a step further; Go beyond horoscopes, past numerologies, and take a left after the palm reader....our egos seem to be bigger than any universe, but how would i know that? My perceptions and interpretation can only be executed by me and only me. Have you ever wondered if we created everything we see in front of us? All of our friends and relationships...I mean, in some sense, we do choose to develop relations with people around us, but why?

I feel like I can pose questions all day and but my answers most often, if not always are answered by more questions, making the plot even thicker. Are we not suppose to think so deeply, or is deep thought just a lilypad in the water; we can only hop to it, and not dwell, because surely the weight of our egos would sink our temporary foundation in to the murky swamps of our minds.

Life, the great balancing act....I am a trapeze artist, welcoming my fears, swaying too close to the edge. But I lie to myself, pretending I am afraid, so that I may learn something more about myself....this self that i discover in different ways each day.

Sleep, is it just a temporary death, or is it death itself and we are left unaware?
There are memories that die, that I collected like a little child on a warm beach elsewhere.

I get sand in the car, as my bare feet and calmy body slams down on a towel strategically placed in the backseat for my arrival. I look at my pail, my collections of bits and bobs, calms, rocks, and chards of colourful glass, that my mom would spank my wet backside, if she only would see, but it is up to me, my choice on whether or not I decided to sift through my collection, and perhaps and accidentally I would cut myself on the very thing I once thought as beautiful....beautiful enough to add to my collection of bits and bobs and other sedimentary things.

I get home and run to the back yard, and skimper to the ground below one of my favourite trees. The summer sun is pelting me with its excitement, it's only purpose in my mind was to warm my backside from the lakes, oceans, and seas that had it's way with me earlier on. I flatten my self on my stomach to the ground like that of a smooshed peanut butter and jelly and re-inspect my new findings. The sun felt soooo good in those days. It makes me want to cry, just a small bit, just to see if its rays are still brave enough to dry them away.

So much history can be found in rocks and such, so much. So, much that little do i realize my influence and impact on it, for I have moved its existance to another place, to be enjoyed, possibly by other people, or other little girls like me but could never be me. For it is me that is look at the shapes and the imprints of the sea at that very instance in time. No one else could be in that spot, really the only spot I own is me and my existance.

So, iIt looks as though creatures have lived here before as I look deeply at a shell. Is its existance only to be realized by a little girl? Maybe my imprints will be discovered someday, like the grease from my fingers, as the bits and bobs of the sea are analyzed thousands and thousands of years later on. It probably doesnt work like that, but you just never really know.

I exist. I am.
I'm Jen.
Nice to meet you.

:-)

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

That was so awesome!

Jen said...

for real?

who's your momma!?

:-p

Anonymous said...

I like that :-) Although I think without a process of infinity in our lives, we would be in trouble.

Imagine knowing the answers to everything? To me that would be the antithesis to life itself. It would be so boring after that with no room for growth :-/

I also like the parts about your backside :-P

Anonymous said...

Yes-for real!