Uber, Sam Adams, and You.
sometimes i wonder what i have left to experience in life. i have been low enough to understand the magnitude of this current high; i'm happy, i feel fulfilled by what i've done, what i've seen, what i've written about, who i've turned into, etc, thus far in life, and i wonder, what's really left that's new and different? and i think of who I was 5 years ago, and realize that each and every solitary second is a new life. that the possibilities are endless. that there is absolutely no way of knowing what's going to happen, and that this not knowing is what makes life so awesome, and exciting, and beautiful. the courage (or lack of) to fly into this unknown at a hundred miles per hour is what makes you (or breaks you) and really, you're never on the same planet twice. change is what the weak fear and what the wise have come to expect.
past is gone. future an illusion. the present sprawls ahead like a leviathan, unwritten and open to this hallmark of human existence: choice. free will. the ability to be excellent or obsequious. to face adversity with the grimace of one who's been defeated before the battle even begins, or with resolve. choice. and isn't that what life is, at its simplest definition? i am consistently amazed by the capacity for greatness within the human animal. (but this necessitates that the converse is also true. the price we pay for beauty.)
he asked what i think our end will be, and the words had truly never entered my mind until that moment. the brain went blank and i looked at him and immediately thought, "my death," because there is no certainty like the certainty i have in knowing that there will never be another one like him. not if i lived to be three thousand would i meet another person on this planet like him. and i thought about the night we were lying in bed and i was so sure that his hand upon my chest was my hand, that i was surprised when his movement revealed the truth.
end is subjective and a difficult concept to wrap a brain around when at present it seems so ugly and loathesome. i was thinking of a way to visualize it, and realized that, as part of nature, this human race is subject to the laws of nature, just like everything else. and i remembered from high school chemistry the law of conservation of energy, how energy can't be created or destroyed, but instead simply changes its form. everything made sense for an instant, and I thought how lucky I am, just for the simple fact of this existence.
past is gone. future an illusion. the present sprawls ahead like a leviathan, unwritten and open to this hallmark of human existence: choice. free will. the ability to be excellent or obsequious. to face adversity with the grimace of one who's been defeated before the battle even begins, or with resolve. choice. and isn't that what life is, at its simplest definition? i am consistently amazed by the capacity for greatness within the human animal. (but this necessitates that the converse is also true. the price we pay for beauty.)
he asked what i think our end will be, and the words had truly never entered my mind until that moment. the brain went blank and i looked at him and immediately thought, "my death," because there is no certainty like the certainty i have in knowing that there will never be another one like him. not if i lived to be three thousand would i meet another person on this planet like him. and i thought about the night we were lying in bed and i was so sure that his hand upon my chest was my hand, that i was surprised when his movement revealed the truth.
end is subjective and a difficult concept to wrap a brain around when at present it seems so ugly and loathesome. i was thinking of a way to visualize it, and realized that, as part of nature, this human race is subject to the laws of nature, just like everything else. and i remembered from high school chemistry the law of conservation of energy, how energy can't be created or destroyed, but instead simply changes its form. everything made sense for an instant, and I thought how lucky I am, just for the simple fact of this existence.
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