should we not let our past define us; our present selves, or should we embrace the origins from which we became for to them we inevitably return regardless of changes?
Category: Knowing
On literature, existence, and feminism
She was there.
A most important literary breakthrough of the presence of the female character.
For it implies that she has become. As if coming out of the mist. A literary faux-pas indeed, she has always been there. In fact, she would still be there long before you have arrived and long after you have left for her existence is independent of your acknowledgment of it.
But in through his eyes, the only words that suffice were only: “she was there.”
One can derive that as she shuffled through books and bookshelves, she has been noted as an element worthy of his attention. Even though she would go on believing she is worthy long before he has subconsciously decided that.
And he continues observing her. A skirt well below the knees and unorthodox boots either from the male section or out of the latest most starking of women fashion realizations made; their shoes are quite literally, not too big to fill.
And she does fill those shoes, every step, she is neither confident nor timid; she is normal. All the more captivating. She isn’t attempting to inspire attention nor is she escaping it.
He keeps observing her. Because everyday she is there.
60-Sins-Left
Did they tell you about the little things
being moments away from sin,
you may commit
any and all.
Did they tell you about how they hid you in the dark,
oblivious to the existence
of photon
particles, you
stood amused
by the light.
Did they tell you about the moments of change
when you are stripped of past you,
and you tread upon the same
pavement
differently so.
Did they tell you about the wrong things in life
and how everyone made them seem
so right
in that
different
darkness.
Did they tell you about feelings,
how you should shrug them off,
how sick you would be
if ever to
manifest
or allow them
to conquer you beyond
reason.
Did they tell you about death,
the loss of the last breath of hope,
the realization of homicides,
the understanding of sin,
the creation of light,
and the becoming
of one’s self.
Blinded by Reason
And as I sat there so aimlessly staring at the empty voids
I realized that the reason proliferated its way into existence,
That everything, from idea created, to end destroyed,
only made sense stemming from the idea of resisting resistance.
She stands, she rises, she falls, but throughout it all she screams,
“I believe in a God, and not necessarily in the religious sense,”
Everyone bewildered of her audacity, her absurdity it seems,
Made no sense at all to the audience, to the dumbfounded lens,
So she explains, in words of poetry, how she means what she meant,
And goes beyond the edges of reason, beyond the walls of imagination,
This is not an ideology to adapt to, it is not how far she has went,
It is the essence of all reasons, her final fall, her complete realization:
I believe in a God. But not only in the religious sense. I believe in a source, a beginning. Where everything sprouted from. A seed; I don’t believe in nihilist notions and I will not succumb to my desires. I believe in being a part of something greater; something beyond me. I believe in God, but it is not just that I worship, it’s that I believe. It is not blind obedience, I swear it only seems that way, it’s perfectly rational from my side.
I believe in God, how there’s a larger part of me that knows me better than I will ever know myself. Succumb to the power that does not stem from you; you are not that significant even if of divine stardust bones and golden-plated curiosity. You are a part. An insignificantly small one as well. And there is something beyond you who knows you beyond your knowledge. So how can giving in be blind?
It’s all rational from here.
I believe in reason. Provoking me. A defined purpose that I may not know of, but that doesn’t mean its not there. “Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.”
She finishes her rant, her poem, her belief,
Apparently the words don’t help her conceive,
Any idea to the audience, there is no relief,
But there is no walking out of this knowledge, she’ll never leave.
Existence
Does something exist if there is no one to acknowledge it’s existence? As inspired from this TED Ed video: Is Math discovered or invented: “If there is a number of trees but no one is there to count them, does that number exist?”
beyond 