My blogging has been quite sparse over the past week. Mostly because of my depression, my "irrational" thoughts, "delusions," and "paranoia." I must say, there's quite an intriguing interplay, between the mind, when it's sick, and stress being imposed upon the body. Some years ago I think I read an article about how obsessive compulsive children are actually more prone to have autoimmune diseases, like Lupus. In my childhood, I wasn't merely OCD'ish, but, as I look back, somewhat medicated, completely whacked!
I'm not certain what I should blog about, today. It's almost 5pm. Still damp, and cool, a blatant contrast to yesterday's zephyr inducing weather. And, someone I love dearly, received awful news, yesterday. My father. I'm a bit tentative, writing about him too much, because it's not something he would want addressed to the whole blog'o'sphere. But, he's been battling a recurrent cancer, metastatic melanoma, and despite a new experimental therapy, his tumor grew, not only that, but it's putting pressure on his liver. Its (tumor's) nodes are constraining a bile duct, more specifically, making his liver function... off. He's getting a risky procedure done, to fix it, but, I'm quite worried indeed. And this only, here I am the solipsist, makes my thoughts worse, thoughts I won't relay for fear most of you will shoo me away, or run away, thinking, clear off, or better yet, RELEASE THE KRAKEN! (Did I spell that correctly? With me, orthographical solecisms sometimes abound)!
Everything occurring has honed my perceptions of death. Which is a bit unfortunate. A character in my first novel, says he's amazed at how death "indebts" us. How we couldn't live without the contrast it brings. How we require a small act of suicide each day, to foray into our multifarious psyche.
And what we owe it, in return, is known to everyone: life.
I'm tempted to embark on my interpretation of Dasein. Being, generally. But it's far too simple. It's only this. We are matter, incontrovertibly conserved, and even if invisibly, our molecules will always shape the universe. In this sense we're bound by nothing. A culpable, capable nothing, that intrudes upon and exceeds us every day we live. And interconnects all. And this is what beauty is, the interconnectedness of nothing.
When I think of existentialism, and nihilism, I'm reminded that there are values at stake. For either to exist, there must be some predecessor. A notion of GOd and value, that gives these systems their own contrast. I propose a new nihilism. Though, given my cursory knowledge of philosophy, from Plato to Gorgias to Nietzsche, this may have already been presented, to the world. I think when we speak of the universe as being composed of nothing, as "God Is Dead," and whatnot, there really is something there. It's kind of like silence. In silence you have a greater perception of sound because the awareness of it is more prominent; in sound the awareness is defunct. In nothingness you have a greater awareness of SOMETHING, because when you think of monotheism, or polytheism, God or Gods, you take the concept at hand for granted. You don't see that when you live in a state of "nothing," there really is something infiltrating your axis. And this something has more value than any contrivance, any myth we create as a means of coming to terms with our destiny. We are inundated by nothing, it's nothing that connects us, and I argue that this gives more value to life, and spirituality, than any religion, which to this day, exists. It's, remember that childrens rhyme in a previous blog, "the way clear water carries a strain of love long past and leaves it unsaid."
If you can feel that statement, you know what I'm referring (to). And we exist on the strangest continuum. The ineluctable modality of form versus the seeming negation of it. But, the beauty of our being is, that is isn't petrified, or manifested. It's something on which we must ground our faith and determination. When I was little, reared a Roman Catholic, in religion class, I remember how I used to envision "God." Not as a bearded man with staff and whatnot. But as something more... diaphanous. Comparable to a cloud, so that the outline of it was clear, and tangible, but the composition of it, him really, was... numinous. Invisible, even.
And, I'm beginning to see how this early image shapes my perception today. An aphorism for life? I'll quote Robert Stone again. There it is.
It's as simple as that, yes, but grounded in something so abysmal, we're blind to see (it).
I can't ramble about philosophy, as I'm quite the novice. What I do want to say, on behalf of my father, and this might sound a bit detached, and strange, is this: I'm happy The Large Haldron Collider exists. I'm happy the "god particle" is under investigation. I'm happy that, even in a vacuum of seamless (ness), something still compels us to think, and re-create. As of late, I've found it all so futile. Why do we even bother when we know the end? And the end is really the beginning, is really the answer as to, the "meaning" of life.
If I can impart anything on my remaining readers, it's this: nothing may seem a lifetime away, but it's really a lifetime that lets us foray into something far more profound than something. Read some Oulipo. You'll know what I mean.