Here's a weird daydreamy thoughts. The world is chaotic, as in, lacks pattern and is disorganized to the extent of being fearsome. There are just incommensurable amount of things, things that make logical sense, things that make no sense to us, things concrete and abstract. It's just too much for anyone to handle. They aren't even dichotomies as I try to capture them, because there are so many dichotomies, then ones that do not get captures by dichotomies. It's dichotomy + 1. Always pattern + exceptions. No pattern. Too much.
The human quality that keeps us from mentally falling apart is our epistemological failure, limit, moderation, protection, however you want to see it. We are allowed to see and understand, but also to forget, ignore, be jaded, and stay ignorant and blind. Phew.
But we can see them, if we want to. We can try to hold everything in our hands if we want to. To hold the tension in our hand, to hold pieces of infinity in our brains. Isn't this scary?
Fear is a very human perception. The world most likely just is. But because it seems to move in certain calculable ways, but with exceptions, they maybe intention-less, but also inherently chaotic. That is its quality. And because we can observe such quality, and opt to constantly push ourselves to observe these qualities-- and finally are capable of feeling fear, world can be a fearful place to some daydreamers. It isn't too me. For just the same thing, it's just annoyingly fascinating, but not fearsome.
But to some, it is fearsome. And then I decided to imagine a possible individual, who wants simplicity in the world, and decides to destroy everything. Raze everything down to dust. He does this regardless of the fact that he knows that his mind will not be simplified, and that destruction will not eventually settle his agony. The agony is in his mind, so it will stay so. Destruction is the fiction of accomplishment, a false sense of reaching the goal, an addiction you can indulge yourself with.
I wonder if I was socialized with the idea of finiteness, completion, and end.
Inconsequential imaginations.
Mothagesso.
