Another Sudden Realization

Whatever I don’t post often, so maybe three posts in on day will make up for the six months I will spend agonizing in school.

But anyhow.

(Is it six months?)

(Whatever.)

 

Anyhow, I had another sudden realization.

(I’m having lots of sudden realizations today.)

 

Everyone here is alive. Let’s assume that. (Because there are some theories ahemahemahem that the “I” is the only one alive, and that everyone else is just actually a part of my imagination, or rather, life, that doesn’t really think for it/he/herself, but actually is acting on accord of making my life spin in a better way than it would if I were alone in the middle of a desert ahemahemAKAtheproptheoryahemahem.

Everyone you see has their own story. (Obviously, I’ve ‘Suddenly Realized’ this a while ago, when I was in the middle of a crowd and wondered what caused the person next to me to get here, and stuff, and then I was all like OMGOMGOMG SUDDEN REALIZATION but that’s not the point.) Whether it’s you in New York, trying to squish your way across the street, or you in school, everyone has a life outside of the perspective in which you perceive them in. Their life is much more than class. In fact, to them, class may be merely a minimal part of their life. Everyone has a living story, with a living heart, that is beating, all in sync to create, what is called a community.

(lol I’m making this up as I go along)

(That just ruined the whole ‘feeling of the moment,’ didn’t it.)

(If there was a ‘feeling of the moment,’ that is.)

Well,

DARMITILOSTIT.

DANGIT.

DANGIT.

Wait.

Lemme

Um.

ummmm

(this happens a lot)

Okay whatever, I’ll just force myself to continue (it might come back that way)

Yeah. So this community, is sort of where everyone’s story interconnects with each other, like pieces in a puzzle, or even more complicated than that. Because everyone’s story also exists, they also think like you do, you know—I think right now, and I have my own thoughts and opinions and history, I have my own story, and memories, and so does the person next to me, they also have their own thoughts and history and memory.

DANGITILOSTITAGAIN.

Um.

What?

Well, Everyone exists. Together.

That’s what makes life, I think.

I think that was what I was thinking—I kind of forget.

NO IT’S SLIPPING.

I think it’s because I’m typing my thoughts.

I’ll stop now.

(Five minutes later~)

Okay it’s not working I was staring off into the trees for five minutes and realized I was creating a metaphor/simile/comparison relating the lengths of people’s lives to a mosaic/Piet-Mondrian painting. On a simpler note, not trying to remember what I forgot six minutes ago.

Darn it.

Well anyhow I was trying to say that because we each have our own thoughts, and we all have a life and a past and a future, it’s that that brings us together and creates a meaning in our life—if one person was all alone on an island, them being born and dying would create no impact, no importance, and no what-anything. But it’s because other people are around us that people have a meaning in life, and a goal, and that seed of hope, it’s because there are other people with their own stories, who are around us. If there is a famous person who died for a noble deed—if they died along with the rest of the people he tried to save, there would be no meaning to his life—his life, his name, and his honour would die right along with his body. Nobody would be there to notice him, or notice his deeds. But because we have our own stories, we life in our past, our present, and our future, it’s because of that that life has a meaning—that we hope to give an impact on others, not just ourselves. Because what’s the point, if you’re alone, what’s the point of living? Really? What is there to do but live, eat, and die? It’s because there are other people who are and aren’t like you, who do and don’t like you, that a true meaning is brought to life within your existence.

 

WHEW I GOT THAT OUT. After a sentence the original thought came back. Whew~ Thank Goodness.

Well, now that I wrote it down somewhere (typed, in this case), I’ll be able to get back to it and make it sound much more fluent and make some sense. It’s actually a premature thought. I have to think more about it. Whew.

 

I’m kind of tired from all that thinking. I’ll do some thoughtless, mind-not-requiring things. :D Bye.