fallen verses

Presented as an unordered list. Containing nothing of consequence.*

• Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. (I wish we used rhetorical marks. And while we’re at it: tree, forest, sound? Is the sound the vibration of air or the perception of it? I know, the point of koan is not to answer them, as such.) It depends on the person. While I suspect most people who love or have loved would say it is the most glorious thing, it’s really the capacity to handle the loss that is the question. Some people don’t do loss well.
• Feeling is like exposing a piece of photographic paper, or a digital sensor (but like all symbolic expression, only to a point). If you want to capture the really good, you won’t be able to discern much of the bad. On the other end, to define the bad means you can’t see the good.
• Unlike photographic stops, I think there is no need for more than five “levels” of, I guess, happiness: really, somewhat, not, un and very un. People can live in two neighboring, and experience a third from time to time. Trying to live in more than that is like trying to see in an all black room when the lights have been turned out. Can’t do it. (Or the other way, like walking out of a movie theater into a sunny afternoon.)
• Trying to write about spooky poetry while sitting in soft lighting, listening to Journey, and drinking wine produces cognitive dissonance.
• Aside from holding contradictory ideas, the previous should be enjoyable. It isn’t. I wonder if I can enjoy anything.
• Sometimes, thought move so quickly and so unpredictably, that it’s like bad carnival ride in my head.

*Isn’t it great that we have the capacity to be inconsequential at times? And have a public forum to do it? The troubling thing: our public figures are inconsequential most of the time, and they get to define the fora for everyone.

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