I pause to catch my breath today and look back on things to come and can’t help thinking about Guy and what if, and why not, and what not.
It is always cruelty and injustice that make reality loose its randomness and I catch myself conspiring with my breath and about to infer there really might be a…
yeah… right… like that would ever happen.
I just miss the feeling of being the deer caught in the headlights… this Guy… he always accomplished exactly that, sending me back to my drawing board, skipping and whistling nursery rhymes. There’s no feeling just quite like it.
Those are the people you should listen to, the un-natural philosophers, the ones who make you feel un-comfortable about all the un-certainties you tricked your homunculus into believing they were un-real.
Not the scientist salesmen, who believe science is an industry that produces facts about reality.
Science is one of the arts that studies the structure of reality.
It should not produce anything other than more questions.