Brilliance. why it's so often found for me in the accurately poignant description of intense pain is still in a way a mystery. perhaps it's partially because few things are so real. i value honesty, reality, truth, and few, if any, things are quite so real as pain. Schopenhauer said it is the only positive thing in this world - that happiness and contentment are merely the absence of pain - we feel them when there's nothing to bother us, which is rarely. something so common, yet so unique and individualized. when someone can make me at least begin to feel what it's like to be another person, to suffer in their specific way, i applaud him.

It's as much about the focus. that moment when you're so jolted out of your own reality to the one happening all around you. other people live, other people hurt, and we're all here to pick someone else up and help them stand again. sitting around is not our prerogative.

coincidence, fate, blueprint. the three work together seamlessly. if it all made sense, it wouldn't be worth living through. the ride is bumpy, but who stays awake on a smooth ride? the real is harsh, the real is jagged, sharp; but the real is real. once a human experiences or even feels something, it becomes a very real thing. the problem is that it is real to only that person; this ends up causing more pain because others don't understand. they can only begin to, anyway. they - we - must try. see past the absurdity of it all to the glaring reality of a wound festering unseen beneath the surface of our fellow human, our neighbor. it's the least we can do.

it's not going to stop until we wise up.

a brief and terribly undescriptive return - 10.28.04
- - 09.17.04
- - 08.16.04
- - 08.13.04
- - 07.30.04