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Heraclitus

spoke of never entering the same river twice.

But we are in the river, are we not?  We are all drifting to the sea.  There is no entering, because we are in the flow.  It is an abstraction to pretend otherwise, and an abstraction is an effort to leave life.

If I might be only vaguely recondite, given past posts, it is disappointing to me that no one really grasps this large cave I have discovered.  I watch what from my side look like beams of light disappear in the distance.

Still, I am an odd soul.  It is hard to compare me to anyone, certainly anyone most of the people I know might know.  I don’t know anyone like me, and I don’t reveal everything to anyone.

I will figure this out, though.  Today I was thinking perhaps I don’t need to be here at all, and I infected myself with the disease of life to see if I could solve it.  I think I can.  I don’t need much more time, either.

This is perhaps all ludicrous, for a man writing to an unknown and perhaps nonexistent audience.  These are, regardless, the contents of my mind.  I deal equally well, for the most part, with silence, praise, and condemnation. I do my thing.  Join me if you can and feel inclined.  There will be water, the unknown, darkness, and possibly some illumination which makes no sense until it does.