• Abdul
    46
    We are far apart; it is indeed a miracle when two men of distinct schools of thought join to kindle under the fire of a united friendship. Friendship is divine, but it necessitates a spirit to eliminate distance.

    Our distances become intimacies, and isolated continuous points on a graph, viewed at a far enough space, form a union. Moments flicker with weeks un-felt. The vehicle is designed for generating miles, but it seems to only produce roads. You may reach anyone on all the four corners but each is trapped within his orbit. The man who hungers for totality, only he lives within; but what are we to make of the planet of particulars? Where every vote is an allegiance, every acusation of our way of life a threat, and every victory a duality.

    Each mistakes the limits of his perception for the shores of truth. Deprivation and want are genuinely palpable, yet so is the inertia that never transforms to kinetic force. The body is victim of its violence and fruit of his circumstance, he flirts with the fences of his garden but never jumps. It seems to flow like dusk follows dawn. Nature, however, begins where we conclude, and as such I consume the whole universe particle for particle within the strict composition of my essence.

    I lament many will surpass eternities without having stepped foot in this one, ceasing to be without having been, that death should be a secret aspiration and lethargy a refuge, that faith manifest only in the saint, valor in the resistant, peace in the meek, and victory in the callous.

    The true man is not ambitious is a mean-spirited way, but remains faithful to his principles. He lives not for profit but for God, and thus in the spirit of his own perfection. Let him meet his fate, and if he shall fail at doing so, he should be accused of nothing other than that he dared.

    The mass seeks numbers, outcomes, gains, profit, and it is a geniune obsession of the american his love for algebra. But life is, in its most intimate, geometry. It is axiomatic but it always fits.

    I fear that our idolatry has made us deaf-mute. These sacrifice to truth, those to leisure, others to pleasure, the rest to vanity, and yet all to ignorance.
  • ToothyMaw
    1.3k


    Well, that was beautifully written.

    Every man takes the limits of his perspective for the boundaries of the world, and so the black truly is still a slave in mind and in heart. Systemic racism, injustice, wrongdoings, these are very real, but so is the inertia that never transforms to kinetic force. Every man is a victim of his will and a product of his circumstance, he flirts with the fences of his garden but never jumps. It all takes place as dawn follows dusk. But nature does not stop where we stop, she begins where we end, such that I carry the whole universe particle por particle within (the strict confines of) my entire essence.

    Why is one's "I" so weighted? And why is resistance such a heavy repellant? I lament that many will be born and succeed phenomenons without truly and honestly having have passed through this one, that some will cease to be without ever having been. That death is an aspiration, and lethargy a refuge. That resistance is hard walls and circumstances predestinations. That faith is only for the saint, courage only for the bold, peace only for the meek, and victory for the callous.
    Abdul

    I especially like this. People in bad circumstances, and that perceive those circumstances to be the limits of what is possible for them, continue to suffer largely as a result of their own inertia. The remedy is to convince ourselves that we can each aspire to be overcome and succeed on our own self-perceived merits even if we are subject to some amount of determinism; furthermore, we are actually empowered by that very same cause and effect given we have the freedom to make our choices.

    Or at least that's what I took away from it.

    Great OP. :up:
  • T Clark
    14k

    I'm with @ToothyMaw on this - I really enjoyed your OP. Do you write poetry? This feels like a poem. Truthfully, I'm not sure what it means. There certainly is a lot going on. I'll have to read it again. Maybe then I'll have more to say.
  • Abdul
    46
    Thanks - edited for clarity
  • Hanover
    13k
    Nice. Much appreciated.
  • unenlightened
    9.2k
    We are far apart;Abdul

    ↪Abdul Nice. Much appreciated.Hanover

    When one has a sense of self, of individuality, that very identification keeps one apart. And as we all have that sense, we have the need to be apart, solitary and thus lonely. But the world has become small, and we are become many.

    We are too close.

    Because you are far away, I can acknowledge you and we can begin to communicate; but when I walk down the busy street, I have to ignore everyone completely, and this is the universal condition.

    My neighbours are too close, and are good neighbours only to the extent that there are good fences between us that we both respect.

    Even our own children must sooner or later be expelled from womb or nest or baronial hall, though they are flesh of our flesh. "Go forth my son and seek your fortune".

    Only one who has the luxury of solitude can afford to lament our separation. Most of us are drowning in each other's stink.
  • Hanover
    13k
    Is this not why it's an extrovert's world?

    How do we approach Betty Sue, that most intimidating creature? Do we walk right up to her and speak our heart? Never!

    We have our friend send a note, or today we text, or maybe we set up an entire online meeting system where we can interact with her picture. If we do decide to directly approach, we drink a few pints to be sure our inhibitions are weakened.

    And this is good to a point. Friendship groups like this one get formed, even marriages. But the other side is that friends meet up to do nothing but stare at their phones. People can't walk down the street without bumping into each other as they check their messages. Bodies in the wild, minds far away.

    We're the addict who learned to cure our social limitations only to no longer know how to socially interact without our crutch. We have forgotten we evolved doing this in an entirely different way for 1000s of years. Successfully.
  • unenlightened
    9.2k
    Is this not why it's an extrovert's world?Hanover

    No. Even, perhaps especially, famous extroverts hide behind dark sunglasses and have people to talk to other people's people for them when regrettably necessary. God preserve us all from the hoi-poloi.

    We like to imagine ourselves broad-minded, sociable, easy-going etc. But nobody has the time or the inclination to even greet every passer by except in what remains of the wilderness, and only there in the really unfrequented regions. Other people are revolting! Don't even look at them! Get a robot for your intimate requirements!
  • T Clark
    14k
    We are far apart; it is indeed a miracle when two men of distinct schools of thought join to kindle under the fire of a united friendship. Friendship is divine, but it necessitates a spirit to eliminate distance.Abdul

    I said in my previous post that I'd come back reread you post. It took me a while, but here I am.

    The sentiment expressed in the text from your post I quoted is common, but I've never understood it. I feel like I am swimming in a sea filled with other people swimming and I'm at home there. I don't feel the separation you describe. What that tells me is that whatever isolation there is is in the isolated person. It's unnecessary. It's not part of our human nature.
  • T Clark
    14k


    No Man Is an Island

    No man is an island,
    Entire of itself;
    Every man is a piece of the continent,
    A part of the main.

    If a clod be washed away by the sea,
    Europe is the less,
    As well as if a promontory were:
    As well as if a manor of thy friend's
    Or of thine own were.

    Any man's death diminishes me,
    Because I am involved in mankind.
    And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
    It tolls for thee.
    John Donne

    Because I am involved in mankind.
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