OF LATE, I've found myself thinking myself into paradoxical corners. Things like "there are no absolutes" and such pop up in my head, then it's sheer existence shoots itself down. I desire to arrive at conclusions that are clearly correct, yet I'm finding flaws in everything I think. Maybe because I'm too involved, but some people can give opinions and views on things, and when I mull them over in my head, they seem fool proof.
What am I missing that keeps me from being a god of ideas? Why can I not let brilliance flow from me like carbon dioxide.
I'm also noticing a divide between the people I know. It seems to be age related. I think those that are older have stopped, in spite of how much they will claim otherwise, searching. They have arrived. In many ways, their journey is over and now they are simply exploring where their minds have landed. But for me and my kind, my age at least, there is some desperation to our searching: not because we are longing for a place to stop, but because we are terrified there is one.
I understand it's impractical, but I want my thoughts to be infinite. I hate the idea of settling, of having a fixed thought process. I want to be able to shuffle between various philosophies, dance with the Greeks, laugh in Italian, banter in French, be drunk in German, soak all of the knowledge in.
But things seem to be so binary, and it's disheartening. As infinite as things are, they seem to be dualistic inherently. I want not the middle space, but the area away from the tension. I want to play the tension.
I want to never stop learning.
I want to write without resorting to pretty sounding sentences to mask the point that this is no longer neccesarily supportable, but simply enjoyable. Hopefully.
I desire concision, but the freedom to be verbose.
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