The empty realization regarding a universe so vast handling all possible combinations and permutations of synchronistic events is too profound for my tiny mind. Reading a book about reincarnation and hope makes me a complete sissy.
I mean, hope should be simple, right? After the storm there’s a new dawn, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, it’s not how many times you fall down but what matters is the fact that you stand up every time you fall down and all those Facebook and internet memes about hope. It brings hope to people in search of it. (it should give hope or presumably, die hoping.)
Then here comes reincarnation, where your soul based on your past karma will be thrown in another space, another time – a theory where, in a grand scheme of things, order will be put in place as your soul will be raped and ripped somewhere, it can be in the past, present or future. (well technically as a subject, you will always be in the present, but you get my point. Since I am the one writing this, the point of reference will be ‘this’ time.)
And then, there you are, a lonely spirit – thrown like a trash- destroyed yet recyclable, you find yourself somewhere, sometime- everything seems new. All memories are erased but some tiny fragments of memories remain. You will meet new people and not so ‘new’ people because somewhere, sometime you already met them.
Then here comes reincarnation, where your soul based on your past karma will be thrown in another space, another time – a theory where, in a grand scheme of things, order will be put in place as your soul will be raped and ripped somewhere, it can be in the past, present or future. (well technically as a subject, you will always be in the present, but you get my point. Since I am the one writing this, the point of reference will be ‘this’ time.)
And then, there you are, a lonely spirit – thrown like a trash- destroyed yet recyclable, you find yourself somewhere, sometime- everything seems new. All memories are erased but some tiny fragments of memories remain. You will meet new people and not so ‘new’ people because somewhere, sometime you already met them.
Connections were made in the past life but you just fail to recognize it. A place or a feeling where you are sure that it’s your first time to experience it, but at the back of your mind, there is this doubt that makes you think why the place or the feeling is so fudgin’ familiar.
The sad part is when you don’t realize that the person in front of you is actually a beloved in another dimension, a past, present or future self and you don’t have a single clue about your temporal-life-cycled-self.
So it was stated in the book that no matter what happens, Samson and Delilah will still find a way to be together. (despite the fact that Delilah betrayed Samson, but their souls will keep on living for all eternity and that their story will recur over and over again in a different time and space.) despite the tragedy, they are meant to be.
So it was stated in the book that no matter what happens, Samson and Delilah will still find a way to be together. (despite the fact that Delilah betrayed Samson, but their souls will keep on living for all eternity and that their story will recur over and over again in a different time and space.) despite the tragedy, they are meant to be.
So we have Jack and Rose, Jack and Jill, Romeo and Juliet, Prince Charles and Princess Diana and a whole lot of more. In short, tragic love stories will always remain a tragedy. No matter how much you try changing your fate, you are simply fighting a losing battle. It would be a futile exercise.
Tragic-fatalistic-universe. Tragedies of the past will eternally recur, albeit, in a different personality and in a different time-space context. An endless vicious cycle of bliss, then pain, then bliss then hurting still. If this were all true, what then will be the purpose of choice? Nada.
Tragic-fatalistic-universe. Tragedies of the past will eternally recur, albeit, in a different personality and in a different time-space context. An endless vicious cycle of bliss, then pain, then bliss then hurting still. If this were all true, what then will be the purpose of choice? Nada.
Choice is an illusion given to beings to make this unbearable burden seem light. Once more, an illusion presented by powerful beings to preserve the order and avoid the chaos. Or is it?
At the back of my puny mind, I am thinking that our choices still have a place on this grand order. We still have the power to choose hope over this nihilistic destiny. We can choose to believe otherwise, we choose to find the meaning behind all these, and since this life will soon recur and we don’t know our destiny yet, we can choose to make this life ‘perfect’ so as when the recurrence will soon repeat its course, at least we have enjoyed life. You can choose to think the ‘what ifs’ like, what if we’re not Samson and Delilah? What if we are actually Adam and Eve? Lois and Clark? Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn? John Lennon and Yoko Ono?
We maybe thrown like a useless trash in this world, but let us not end things as a trash. The journey from birth to death is a long one, and we in that particular time frame, can do a lot of things. We can still find meaning in all these.
At the back of my puny mind, I am thinking that our choices still have a place on this grand order. We still have the power to choose hope over this nihilistic destiny. We can choose to believe otherwise, we choose to find the meaning behind all these, and since this life will soon recur and we don’t know our destiny yet, we can choose to make this life ‘perfect’ so as when the recurrence will soon repeat its course, at least we have enjoyed life. You can choose to think the ‘what ifs’ like, what if we’re not Samson and Delilah? What if we are actually Adam and Eve? Lois and Clark? Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn? John Lennon and Yoko Ono?
We maybe thrown like a useless trash in this world, but let us not end things as a trash. The journey from birth to death is a long one, and we in that particular time frame, can do a lot of things. We can still find meaning in all these.
I started this rambling this morning and planned to end it: as usual: TRAGIC. I haven’t thought it will sound hopeful, but I guess, I have realized a lot of things in my 12 hour journey battling with life. Or perhaps it was the Choco drink mixed with water.
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