Lately, I have very little motivation to care. Everything slips into velter of pointless squabble, into entropy of a rock garden all random. And I find really few reasons to care at all
The reality if there is such a thing is tearing itself apart, at the seams, like a titan holding an enemy above his head and tearing him apart only through sheer brutalic power of muscle. As if just before, a day earlier, all was there, the coherence and the purpose. Reasons to pursue, to stand up and do anything. And now, all that is left is enthropy, eternal vortex of all the broken and the forgotten thoughts, dreams, ideas. There is simply no linkage isnt there, nothing make sense and if someone to say that it does, thats a lie that is chanted as a religious mantra in cases of utter annihilation of meaning
Now I dont see any purpose in any thing. There is no thing that I want to do, that I have motivaion to, or reason, or purpose, there is no thing to attend. It all was dissolved in this vortex and nothing can be done to gain it back. Straight down the drain it go
In this entropy, there are still objects and subjects playing games on each other. It is like a party, but a very boring one, and you are looking like a bird from the outside and all that is happening is randomity, unrefined entropy in its pure form, and nothing that connects any of the actions seen. The obvious assumptions for reality dissasipate like heat, like drop in the water, and no action can be assumed to be done in some logic. There is no logic, it was proven incorrect, now there is no logic. If there was a nexus now there is no nexus to any thing, it is all just set of costumes and props left on the stage, all the purpose has long left this stage and all that remains is open history that is unable to contain in itself the content of our own purpose
In this moment I feel no thing. All that is left is hunger. Im unable to form any opinion, it is all the same. All that is left is tradition, inertia. There is no desperation, just listless ambivalence. There is no reason to care isnt it, if there is no thing to care about, nothing to live about, when all meaning is constantly uprooted and replaced by randomness of facts that ceased to be facts, now they are just words that meant something, now that meaning slipped right under the ground, never to be found
Is there any difference at all? If the color is green or red? Is it solid or liquid? If it is sad or happy?
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