Of late...
Normally, any entry here would be analytical and thought-provoking (I hope), but I'm in too melancholy a mood for that sort of writing. The only thing that feels satisfying is to fill some sort of emptiness - the emptiness of this page - with meaning. To give intelligence to the void is creation, and creation gives worth to self.
But what to fill it with... what intelligence will be the substance? Should I detail all the thoughts and feelings of my heart, of late? Probably not; that would be inappropriate for this somewhat public place. Perhaps the happenings of my first week of school here at BYU Idaho... but I don't feel like writing of events; I never do. Events are cold. The workings of the heart are the true story of any event. I hardly have the skills to make events and the heart of one reality.
Then why am I writing? Maybe it's that void thing. Or maybe writing makes me feel like my life is significant. I think we all seek validation in some form from time to time. Perhaps the thought that someone will read my thoughts makes me feel like I exist a little more because caught the attention of the reader for a few moments.
That's an interesting thought. Does one exist if he is not comprehended? Or does it merely take comprehension of other things to exist. Perhaps for one's handiwork to be comprehended is sufficient for the classification of "extant". Whatever the case, everything that exists has some sort of effect on the universe, so it can be argued that having zero effect on the universe would only be possible if that thing did not exist. Do each of us, then, vary the extent of our existence by varying the amount of effect we have on the world we live in? I think so.
That means, the more I write, the more I exist. Right...
It's a funny world we live in. When things go really well, those things are taken. It's like God decides to remove the conditions that were had in order that we might move on to the next lesson. In all the happenings of my life I have eventually seen the purpose and good that has come of the horrible things. I have seen the tender mercies of God and I am thankful for them. Though now melancholy, in time joy will again have place at my table.
At this moment, also, my heart tells me to stop talking about myself. I'm nothing, after all. This week in chemistry we learned that atoms are about 99.999999...% nothing. Yes, emptiness. Then again, that emptiness has great influence. The volume of space that it occupies is determined by the force it exerts on surrounding atoms. Therefore, it's effect or influence defines its existence. It is mainly nothing materially but proves itself by its power.
That's all. Goodnight.
But what to fill it with... what intelligence will be the substance? Should I detail all the thoughts and feelings of my heart, of late? Probably not; that would be inappropriate for this somewhat public place. Perhaps the happenings of my first week of school here at BYU Idaho... but I don't feel like writing of events; I never do. Events are cold. The workings of the heart are the true story of any event. I hardly have the skills to make events and the heart of one reality.
Then why am I writing? Maybe it's that void thing. Or maybe writing makes me feel like my life is significant. I think we all seek validation in some form from time to time. Perhaps the thought that someone will read my thoughts makes me feel like I exist a little more because caught the attention of the reader for a few moments.
That's an interesting thought. Does one exist if he is not comprehended? Or does it merely take comprehension of other things to exist. Perhaps for one's handiwork to be comprehended is sufficient for the classification of "extant". Whatever the case, everything that exists has some sort of effect on the universe, so it can be argued that having zero effect on the universe would only be possible if that thing did not exist. Do each of us, then, vary the extent of our existence by varying the amount of effect we have on the world we live in? I think so.
That means, the more I write, the more I exist. Right...
It's a funny world we live in. When things go really well, those things are taken. It's like God decides to remove the conditions that were had in order that we might move on to the next lesson. In all the happenings of my life I have eventually seen the purpose and good that has come of the horrible things. I have seen the tender mercies of God and I am thankful for them. Though now melancholy, in time joy will again have place at my table.
At this moment, also, my heart tells me to stop talking about myself. I'm nothing, after all. This week in chemistry we learned that atoms are about 99.999999...% nothing. Yes, emptiness. Then again, that emptiness has great influence. The volume of space that it occupies is determined by the force it exerts on surrounding atoms. Therefore, it's effect or influence defines its existence. It is mainly nothing materially but proves itself by its power.
That's all. Goodnight.
it's nice to hear from you---- keep up the blogging! :) xoxo
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