February 12, 2010 § Leave a comment
life is one big bubble of time. we are stuffed with emotions that live off actions of previous and present us. we are our descendants, we are what they gave us. there is more beyond our bubble of life. when you are in the bubble, you have no idea what’s outside of it. you function, but you have no idea why. why simply cannot be questioned when you live in this bubble. the bubble is infinite. it spans forever, but once you reach forever, you become a different bubble that morphs off this big bubble of time. this bubble morphing is similar to that of cell synthesis, where this big bubble divides into new ones. why are these bubbles here? i hate to put a question mark, because still there is no answer. somewhere these bubbles are in some sort of space, but where does that space stop? there should be an endpoint… but yet again, there is no endpoint to these bubbles, so why would/should there be one for the space in which the bubble/s occupy? it’s so crazy how something so simple can be so detailed. and undescribable. mark twain once said “Ah, friend Bkshp, we live in a strange and unaccountable world; our birth is a mystery, our little life is a mystery and a trouble, we pass and are seen no more; all is mystery, mystery, mystery; we know not whence we came, nor why, we know not whither we go, nor why we go. We only know we were not made in vain, we only know we were made for a wise purpose, and that all is well! We shall not be cast aside in contumely and unblest, after all we have suffered. Let us be patient, let us not repine, let us trust. The humblest of us is cared for –oh, believe it!–and this fleeting stay is not the end!” so Twain knows the answer we all seek: mystery. nothing but sweet mystery. and isn’t mystery what we thrive off of? the mystery how the first kiss will be, the mystery of surprises, the mystery of crimes, etc… the universe remains a mystery for infinity.