2001-05-10 - 12:00 a.m. - trivialis4

Can anyone read what I write and take it seriously? If so, I want to hear from you. I want to hear that perhaps this isn't all pathetic posturing, that some of what I feel is real, that the world is real, that there are people out there... who if they don't care, will at least read, will comprehend, will give this life of mine any weight, any meaning...

For what weight means to me- this is what I wrote in Chloe's (astroturf's) guestbook, which perhaps explains some of it... look to "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" by Milan Kundera for perhaps more of the story.

The meaning of life is endless suffering. And the meaning of that suffering is to help us convince ourselves that our lives have weight, that they are not light and utterly without importance... Einmal ist keinmal, what happened once might as well have never happened at all, and so it is little consolation to the everyman that his decisions will not come for judgment in this life or necessarily the next-- "--the sky looks very blue. Is that its real color, or is it because it is so far away and has no end? When the bird looks down, all he sees is blue too." -Chuang Tzu ... It's late dearie, got to go. Nice site by the way, good entries, good stuff, see you around school tomorrow and take care of yourself. Keep that notebook up and running -- and ha HA, I was lying about going to bed because I'm a UHS student, I only know OF sleep, see, and more than that I have an essay to write for history so I'm going to subject you to just a little bit more babble... or not. Ta-ta.

So. Weight brings with it importance: as Kundera wrote, "In the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body..." and still I long for weight, wish to be utterly consumed, taken up whole...

I will now leave you to your thoughts. Be careful how you judge me, for in your hands you hold fragments of my life, soul, and sanity...

Mens sana in corpore sano. What lie I give to those words...