September 4

I find myself spread pretty thin these days, but what's worse really is this sense of psychic blindness. At some point my internal clock seems to have caught up with the present, or maybe I've just become so obsessed with the "now" that it has become harder to see into the future.

The future of what exactly? You might ask. The future of myself it seems. Perhaps this is just what getting older feels like; the steady creeping suspicion that nothing lasts forever. A concept that we can readily confront at any time, without any real sense of comprehension.

Not so with the creeping suspicion, if anything it is a prickling awareness of the reality that we can never fully understand, only experience. No matter what, everything just keeps slipping away, this has to be accepted. Probably the single most difficult thing in life to grasp.

We must at the very least accept that we cannot fully accept the crushing gravity of loss, not all at once anyway.

Has it really been an entire month? What exactly have I been doing? It's all a blur. Thousands of little things all adding up invisibly behind the scenes. I begin to get the feeling that a life without focus is one that is suddenly over. That may be convenient for people who prefer memories to discovery.

I must choose. Only one life. Having two identities is tiresome. Those are the thoughts I keep having.

I've even started to work this new sensation into my philosophy, that is how pervasive it has become. As I look out over the babbling crowd, I see this familiar theme of the eternal struggle for some form of stability. Note, I did not say "balance". It's only rational, I do not begrudge. It is because of a lack of balance that stability is in such high demand; however convincing people of this is a fool's errand.

But what kind of fool braces a house built on a sinking island? A bigger one. A desperate one. That is where we find ourselves, in this house that humanity built, desperate as all fuck just to keep it from falling over; meanwhile the water is lapping at the front porch. And what exactly would a smart person do in this situation?

Tear down the house and build a boat.

Adaptability is another one of those rather unpleasant "realities" as previously noted above. Thinking about it won't make it happen, it happens when you're not paying attention. Suddenly you must adapt. I keep thinking, that's how the universe works, things are not designed to last, they are designed to adapt.