"We pass the word around; we ponder how the case is put by different people, we read the poetry; we meditate over the literature; we play the music; we change our minds; we reach an understanding. Society evolves this way, not by shouting each other down, but by the unique capacity of unique, individual human beings to comprehend each other." - Lewis Thomas

Thursday, April 14, 2011

The heart and those which run through it

The heart, a large wooden door leading to that unknown and undescribable emotion which we all seek. That tiny four letter word which man has killed man in order to keep to himself; like an artifact of some ancient place. The ironic thing is that the word, in itself, teaches the opposite of death, of destruction and the opposite of everythign accompanies those things. Yet we still do it.

The glorious thing is that the heart, itself, acts as its own barrier and its own protector. Keeping those at bay who can not choose the right key from the dust covered walls of hanging, once silver keys. Keeping most away and intimidating others. There is, like everything, exceptions that work their way through the breaks and the cracks, have a lucky guess or persuade their way through.

Upon the entering the heart, a long dark hallway lite by a single light at the end faces whoever be the lucky one to open the door. Key in hand they wander the halls, finding in the emptiness the deepest desires behind unlocked, unkempt doorways. Blacker than shades in daylight they wander from room to room with no explanation. They seek the desires, temptations, disgusts, losses, memories and many other emotionally tied objects. Something in which they can keep as their own to show what they know. An egotistical search by trial and error, tripping over the fallacies of their original thoughts.

Slowly the candles ignite along the walls of this hall. A singular door is shut with no way of opening it, no key, no lock just a road block. They stand before it with their object like an offering. Believing that the hallway of the heart is the end of the journey to love. Little do these people realize there is more beyond the door. The door does no seek offerings, the arrogance of the belief that this is all.

These hallways stretch for a timeless amount. It brings the sands of time to a halt, watching the flakes of dust be pushed aside by each others strength. The eager mind seeks a stimulant, not an offering of words or object. The heart is the beginning phase, the emptiness which accompanies the heart is eliminated by the acknowledgement of the mind and the body, of the soul and the heart. A person must walk the hallways and search the right door through instinct, not by fumbling through each other clouding the judgement of the heart.

The cycle never breaks, never begins and rarely finishes. Thus, we settle. In a time of increasing emptiness, we settle more and more. In searches of intimacy and companionship, through which ever lonely facade we can convince ourself of. Life turns into a masquerade of lies. We shield ourselves from the revelation of the fact that we are alone in the world, by falling for our own lies. They last until the sands end and we wash away to the shore of truth. That final realization of falsehood we distracted ourself from for an era. Then that breath escapes the lungs and the heart remains an empty vessel for the mind.

"Life, dreams and desires are just replications of one another. The fact that we split them apart into separate categories is the greatest fallacy man has ever made. If we were to live life as though it were a dream, find that desire and seek it out we would be eternally happy. Most live life as if it is a punishment, seeing their dreams crushed and their desires striped; however, if this were true and not just a perception, life would and could not exist. As life would be a pointless facade without a direction to move in. We mustn't split dreams and desires from living life each day, else we will see life in the darkest corners of our mind. Watching and holding the noose which echoes through the visions of life's worst perceptions." - Authors note 62

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