every cliché and everything new

21 June 2009 § Leave a comment

Human things, eh? Who am i to ascribe things to every human being ever? What if each of these things was absolutely tainted by my own biased and culture-corroded way of thinking? Would that it were not so! (i even pretend to use the subjunctive.) Of all things i feel great hatred toward the fact that nothing is straight and unbiased–and that is lack of faith. For deep down i know that if truth were accessible in circumvention of human communication, there would be no need for love and community–which is the very essence of meaningful existence. Thus the underlying need for correctness–the source of so much selfishness in children, young and old–(i also think everyone is a child, just varying in scale)–must be suppressed until, when this life is o’er, it will be plausible to fill.

It really and truly blows my mind that every person is unique. Here i am trying to know what it means to be a person by finding out what is common to everyone, when truly the way to really be me is to be the combination of human characteristics that has never quite appeared in anyone else. (I feel inadequate when i just philosophize in simple language that is not poetic, but i must get these things out of me. i’m committed, and though there is always room for improvement, i am compelled to write thus. This is another topic altogether.)

Last time the thought sprouted about everyone having a Noble to chase: the one thing that aspiration to which becomes meaning in existence. Today i’ve been thinking that possibly everyone has a book to write–maybe not in words, but in however they express themselves–a message to proclaim to the world. Mine is “Be a person!” and the ramifications thereof. Even in saying this, that everyone has their message for the world and that everyone should be themselves, i rebel in my heart because it sounds like those sickeningly sweet Sunday school ladies, or the ones who write books and sell them on TV and wear lots of jewelry. But they are fundamentally right, i think, and that rebellion is just me wanting to be cool and removing grace from my mind. (Not what i know is Noble, so why do i do it?–so many things we know better than to do, but have no willpower for! Paul is not alone, and neither is every young child in the world. We are all children.)

Probably more to come on this, but, once again, no guarantees.

A poet’s piece of a love story from which my title is drawn.


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