If I commented of every thought I had, and if every comment I made inspired a reply, and if every reply I heard inspired a thought, I could drown in images.

I know I haven't been online in a while. I've been busy, and thinking, and lazy, and occupied. Sunday was not a particularly good day for me. Not because of anything any of you did. You all did well. Those of you who were able to be truly spontaneous, to alter your lives and your decisions, I thank you. You did an excellent job, and while you may not have noticed anything special happening, well, it's not like I really expected it to be noticeable. It's entirely possible that our actions could result in the eventual salvation of man. There's really no way of verifying.

You see, it all has to do with time. That is the reason Sunday was such a bad day for me. It's all my own fault, of course, for having this bizarre thought that for some reason my birthday would be important. Not that it would be important for other people, because, of course, that thought was perfectly valid, but my ridiculous belief that it would be somehow meaningful for me. I never should have believed it. All it really means is I've been breathing for so thousands of days, really, and why should that change anything? I assumed that being 23 would make a difference, because of the number 23, because numbers are symbols, and I know how powerful symbols can be. The problem is, what does 23 mean, really, when it's put into years? I could as easily make it 8400 days, or 276 months, except that doesn't really change anything. Those are purely arbitrary measurements, and so they are perforce meaningless.

Not that you should doubt their meaning to each of you. Most of your cases are completely different from mine. The scale on which I wish to operate is beyond your own. Meaning is defined by point of reference. From the reference point of Earth, this planent, Sudnay was a vital, important day, but I've never really used this world as a reference point. As such, I have to view time differently.

Even the nature of time is complicated. For instance, I've been thinking, and I don't think time moves. Not really, that doesn't really make sense exactly. It's like when they say space-time continuum, as if space and time are the same thing, but it occurs to me, that simply doesn't fit. No, time has to be similar to space, and I suspect it is related to space, but they aren't really the same thing.

And we are obviously moving through time, not it moving and carrying us with it. Time is a stable quantity, and we define it, chop it into manageable chunks like second, hour, year, in much the same was as we do space with meter, kilometer, league and so on. The thing that I wonder about, is why?

I suspect it has to do with the big band and the beginning of the universe (I happen to believe in the big bang theory not despire the fact that I am a creationist, but because of it. You'd be surprised how much sense it makes if you thinkg about it in the right way). I suspect that at the very beginning, as it were, the matter and energy of the universe began to expand out into the greater universe (because the nothingness outside is still part of the universe, even though there is, well, nothing in it, because the universe is all there is) it also began to expand through time, in much the same way as it expands through space. Of course, that brings up the question of whether time is different as you go towards the center of the universe, or what will happen if, as some physicists believe, the universe begins to collapse.

Anyway, dismissing the discussion about the nature of time, the problem was mostly my expectation. One way or another, the path I was on was bound to end Sunday, leaving me either with a new Path of Power and Freedom, or with a new Path of Drudgery and Mundanity. And this diary is, after all, called the Path of Enlightenment, a path I have traveled all my life.

Unfortunately, as Sunday, my birthday, slowly withered away, as our bit of Earth passed through that 24 hour period of time, moving on to the next meaningless temporal measurement, my feet turned towards the Path of Drudgery and Mundanity as I found myself falling into despair. I, however, whether fortunately or unfortunately (it's impossible to tell at this point in my life), am truly incapable of really maintaining any belief in myself as less than I have always believed.

For a time I entertained thoughts of myself as a hypocrite (which I always knew, and was never particularly concerned over), and worse as no better than the seething mass of humanity I have always despised. Everything I hate, I eventually fall to, despite my struggles and wishes, and purity and resistance, and everything that has always marked me out as unique.

Still, my arrogance saved me (yet again, so many people talk about how arrogance is such a bad thing, but were it not for my arrogance, I would be in a very sorry state, tis true), and I turned even farther, as I considered my thoughts, and my life, and my dreams, and when I finally awoke on Monday, I found myself walking a new Path, one that wasn't there before, or maybe was always there, but was out of my sight, blinded as I was by expectation.

Now I follow the Path of Paths, a path which, at it's end, will finally resolve which path I must eventually follow to achieve my goal. I know who and what I am, and who and what I wish to be (they are the same), and it is only a matter or making my reality into, well, my reality.

I am no better than the seething mass of humanity I despise, and yet I am infinitely better, and that is my strength. They is my self. That is evertyhing I have ever believed I might be. I am everything I hate, and that only makes me stronger.

Everyone is special. Everyone is unique. Everyone except me.

recent...
2001-05-29 - Another year older and deeper in debt.
2001-05-22 - TV watching.
2001-05-21 - What I want for my birthday.
2001-05-21 - The dilly-o.
2001-05-20 - Super Smash Bros. Melee