Inane obession with death and realityI am reading this book by Jostein Gaarder called Maya. Yeah it’s the same one who wrote Sophie’s World. I’ve yet to read that one. Strange and absurd to read another one of his books when the most applauded one has been skipped over. But then again, I do not usually do things in sequence as a habit.
I know that I am strange. I have an almost inane obsession with death and reality. I am constantly wondering about our existence and place in life. I know that while life may seem at best superficial, it is nothing but deep and constant guess work and fluke accidents. As if knowing all this isn’t enough, I have to read it in a book, and find my voice or inner thoughts echoed in words written by another human being, who must be a fellow life contemplator, otherwise, it is almost impossible to sprout phrase after phrase of questioning aphorisms that make sense to me.
I don’t presume to know much. I don’t pretend to be otherworldly. I don’t think I can be. But this I know… that we can never entirely know what we are set here for. We can assume, we can play guesswork, we can wonder. But if anyone tells you in a word, a phrase, a sentence, or an essay what you were meant to be here for, it’s a lie. It’s a dream and a fallacy. It’s also half-truth. Because, and I believe there will be people who will proclaim themselves oracles of the Gods who created us and who will preach to us, it cannot be the whole story to it. Because usually what we are fed are a bunch of convoluted truths that have been hurriedly put together like dough and salt and shoveled maniacally into the oven for half a breathe and come out only half-baked. It would have been preferable if it came burnt for at least that meant that something had been tried and tested but didn’t work out. But half-baked meant that whatever was conjured up never had a chance to speak for itself much less prove itself.
The world is full of inconsistencies. If someone said he believed in fate, I spurn him.
The Fates laugh at men who trust in them. It is their happiest moment when gullible people believe in the so-called truths that they dish out. What is truth, and what is not? Can you judge?