I broke the cardinal rule to the "Guidelines for Maintaining Dylan's Continued Existence": I thought. Nights like last night are the sort you look back at last night and laugh a cold, mirthless, bitter laugh simply because it's the only suitable emotion. Zero = Zero is the best I can come up with. It's true, and yet zero doesn't exist. It's a redundant fact, accomplishing nothing, and therefore stating that no real answer exists. I actually looked at the foundations to my tenuous hold on reality and found them lacking. So I tried to rebuild and once again I destroyed any semblance of “truth” I could find. There is no right answer, only varying degrees of wrong ones. If there is a clear, right answer then there never was a question in the first place. Such is the nature of mankind’s philosophical predicaments.
It essentially comes down to a matter of complexity. All issues can be made simple, cut and dry with easy answers. But that in itself is a deception for nothing is really that simple. Thus you can weave immense webs of complexity, find the contradictions, the half-truths, the lurking lies that hide in the shadows of your mind. You might actually get a minute degree closer to the answer. But in the end you get caught, and that dreaded specter of reality and fantasy creeps closer to ensnare you in its midnight silk, trapping you forever in an introverted sleep.
What’s to be done? Stop thinking? I’ve tried it, and it works to some degree. But I have to live by something. Is happiness really the end goal? I don’t know. I have a path I’ve chosen. Perhaps I’ll be enticed or forced to another, perhaps not. My only wish is that I can help you. Any of you. And now I have inspiration for a poem, so let’s see if that works out better than the rest of my pitiful little existence. Here’s hoping!
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