I have to go and train tomorrow at 8am. There is no applicable string of words to accurately portray the true distaste I feel towards that notion. Perhaps I will merely skip it, or, in some extreme bid to avoid an early morning, hit my head against a wall for a period of time long enough to discharge me from the responsibility of attending. Needless to say, I am now questioning the validity of my employment - fuck wages, I want sleep!
I also have to visit Jack tomorrow and give him his phone back, dressed in appropriately abhorrent business attire and, inevitably, receive copious reams of abuse from him about how ridiculous I look. Tomorrow is going to be a horrendous day. Please, someone put me out of my misery now and poison me in my sleep.
Over and out.
Monday, 22 August 2011
Saturday, 13 August 2011
Faith moans about death.
There have been few occasions in my lifetime so far that, as a result of which, I have truly accepted my own unhindered mortality. It is a product of expanding human essence for one to protect oneself from such an acceptance, at least for long enough to fulfil the criteria of an accepted evolutionary and naturalistic life: grow, reproduce, maintain the short-term dependent lives of the offspring and then die - thus returning that which one borrowed in existence to the earth that so steadfastly recycles it.
In accepting death, it is widely (and misleadingly) thought, among those whose understanding is limited to an overview of physical earthly life, that one consequently surrenders one's ability to live in such a way that respects the brevity of earthly existence. In reality, the acceptance of death allows one to witness, in an entirely untainted light, the magnificence and glory of existence as a whole; not merely that short period of dusty awareness between birth and death, but the potential continuance of that awareness beyond a comprehendable level. Death, I suppose, is thus not something to fear, but rather one's birth into something new. Whatever that proceeding state might be is an insurmountable mystery.
In accepting death, it is widely (and misleadingly) thought, among those whose understanding is limited to an overview of physical earthly life, that one consequently surrenders one's ability to live in such a way that respects the brevity of earthly existence. In reality, the acceptance of death allows one to witness, in an entirely untainted light, the magnificence and glory of existence as a whole; not merely that short period of dusty awareness between birth and death, but the potential continuance of that awareness beyond a comprehendable level. Death, I suppose, is thus not something to fear, but rather one's birth into something new. Whatever that proceeding state might be is an insurmountable mystery.
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