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Saturday, April 24, 2010

Empirical

Notebook passage on the wall, 
Why are we so fragile and small? 
Did we miss some ancient call, 
From whatever made it all? 

Or did we trip and hit our head, 
Become victims to our words which led, 
To war and famine, death and dark, 
Our mission now, to leave a mark? 

 Or were our ways too arrogant, 
And to what nature had lent, 
We built using iron and, 
Invaded others foreign land? 

 Or were we meant to stay a cell, 
But began to make ourselves so well, 
That for reasons I can't tell, 
We wrote books to invent hell? 

Perhaps we were just way to laid back, 
That your brain said we'd float off-track, 
If given chance at bigger things, 
So you opt not to give us wings? 

Well sadly we've got news for you; 
There or not, we've thought through, 
Planes and cars, space and time, 
As well as both rhythm and rhyme. 
 We have earned right to sublime.

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The world is meaningless,

there is no God or gods, there are no morals, the universe is not moving inexorably towards any higher purpose.
All meaning is man-made, so make your own, and make it well.
Do not treat life as a way to pass the time until you die.
Do not try to "find yourself", you must make yourself.
Choose what you want to find meaningful and live, create, love, hate, cry, destroy, fight and die for it.
Do not let your life and your values and your actions slip easily into any mold, other that that which you create for yourself, and say with conviction, "This is who I make myself".
Do not give in to hope.
Remember that nothing you do has any significance beyond that with which you imbue it.
Whatever you do, do it for its own sake.
When the universe looks on with indifference, laugh, and shout back, "Fuck You!".
Rembember that to fight meaninglessness is futile, but fight anyway, in spite of and because of its futility.
The world may be empty of meaning, but it is a blank canvas on which to paint meanings of your own.
Live deliberately. You are free.