Nights Flame with Fire
#Philosophy
Alone in a beautiful room, it’s not so beautiful. Submerged in chaos, fruitful chaos. The world around — buzzing, the world within — decaying. I begin to sink, give in to my thoughts. I begin to spiral, succumb to my insecurities, succumb to my dread, succumb to my fears.
This will come to us all, at different times, in different magnitudes — but sure as your existence, it will come. For this is to suffer from thought, to suffer from our inner complexity — and thought is the human condition. Though individuality can reveal itself in our reaction to the pain. For all we have is the choices we make in reaction to these circumstances, they are us.
Again, the world is calm, but this bears no consequence on the turmoil. For there is no objective reality, so neither the divine fruit of pleasure — nor the shackles of neuroticism — care for any distinction between reality & fabrications (if you are so arrogant to assume such a distinction in the first place).
So how dark does it get? When you’re sitting alone. Lost. Embedded 50 meters deep in a black ocean, with no clarity of direction. There is no path to surety — though there is certainty. Certainty that failure to move will bring a painful death. So movement will emerge, albeit weak. This is not a marvel story, there is no reason the fallen will rise, & you are no hero.
But if you so choose, abandon the room. Escapism is not merely cowardly, sometimes necessary, so long as you’re honest (with whom?).
So I run, barely lock the door. No jacket either, but I don’t care for the cold — in fact, I like it, it reminds me I am alive. & perhaps it too can distract me from my pain.
My stunning dusty old car starts to roar, exuding energy, fueled by my latest musical flavour. A glimpse of happiness presents itself, well it’s more confused energetic emotion. Nonetheless it’s a divine escape from the hell I knew in that room moments ago. I drive fast, singing at full capacity. Crying. Holding on to remnants of fickle truths that turned before I had the chance to breathe. How could you turn back on all those beautiful words?
My car begins to summit that iconic campus road. Feel 10’000 things at once. I am within & without & it’s gorgeous agony. Stop. I am here. Look over those campus stairs. Sprint up the hill & turn, let the view engulf you, one glance & you’re gone. We are made small, in the most beautiful way imaginable. 1 million lights, 500’000 people, each with endlessly intricate lives. Infinite stories. Infinite truth. Infinite love. joy. enthusiasm. pain. regret. suffering.
Feel the city breathing, & oh does it breathe. It shakes me to my core. I can’t believe it’s mine. All mine at that moment (but like most things — worthless alone, priceless if shared). Endless possibilities. Endlessly pointless. I am torn. I choose hope. I’m going to dance these streets while I light them up.
I suppose I’ll dance without you.
