Wednesday August 16th 2006, 9:20 am
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters


This life is hell. This life of living a lie is torturous. It seems that the natural state of existence for the universe is motion. Therefore human life, a spasm lasting a mere 80 to a hundred years, if we’re lucky, can only be a lie that the universe is trying to either cover up or destroy. It’s no wonder why we as humans find so much conflict with our own existence. Gravity, the master of all humans, has been trying to kill us long before we ever knew of its powers. We have so much trouble dealing with death, when in all actuality, it’s the natural-un-natural state of the universe. We are re-born into motion when we die. This planet seems to be a truck stop for Atoms, a place to fill up on hate, love and the occasional scoop of ice cream. When we move on into the void, we become the void, thus re-uniting ourselves with the natural state of the universe and continuing our path of frictionless motion. Humans use happiness as a crutch, “Oh, no, I’m too happy to die. Just go ahead without me, I’ll catch up later.” Sadness brings us closer to the actualization of our own death, and therefore, we strive to be happy for the finite 80 or so years we exist (or dodge existence). So maybe the post-mortemists are right when they speak of death and decay as the ultimate goal of humanity. But, they don’t take their philosophy far enough because life is not just about the death and decay we experience in the present moment. No, death and decay are mere symptoms of the absolute goal of humanity, which is to reunite with the entropy of the universe. In these terms, death becomes the ultimate blessing god can give us. We re-unite with the spiraling energy of the cosmos. This has nothing to do with metaphysics. Consciousness and the spirit are projections of neurological connections, and are the cause of conflict against gravity and the ultimate. The ‘absolute truth’ Hegel speaks of, the ‘will to power’ Nietzsche describes, and the cogito of Plato; all these descriptions are rhetoric describing the force of our enemy, the motion of the universe. This static and myopic existence will only serve us so long. And then, like a gas attendant letting us know his station has closed, we will be forced to move on, into the void in which we belong.


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