We live in a world of abstract concepts, and we are wholly ruled by each of them. Take time, for instance. Time does not truly exist, it is merely a way of measuring our past, present, and future. Time is never the same for anyone, because it exists within perception and not in reality. Ah, you say, but reality is time. No. Without your clocks, your counting, your minutes, your hours, your years, your bloody centuries, time is nothing. A blink of an eye can occur within hours for one person. To one who waits, what FEELS like an eternity IS an eternity. That is why time is so abstract. That is why dictionary.com uses big words to describe it. Contain the abstract in the concrete and define it with as many words as possible! Give it a physical shape in a watch, a clock, or a child counting the seconds like sheep. Allow it to confine you and drag you from what is REALLY important. Our whole life is a damned counter. COUNT AWAY!
Love and beauty. Have you ever have someone try and describe to you what love is? Well, if you have, they have probably done a poor job of it. Love is perhaps one of the most abstract of all qualities. Why? Because people claim it exists, but it really does not. An intense desire to constantly be with the same person is a physical urge, no matter how psychological one believes this urge may be. The way that the word is thrown around nowadays certainly seems to fit this. "I love this dress", "I love this song", "I love this restaurant". All three, very physical. "I love my husband". He brings you sensual fulfillment. Physical. Next please? "I love my brother". You have been with him your entire childhood and life. Your physical closeness disappears for whatever reason, and an emptiness will remain. And what do I know about this? I have claimed to be in love. I claimed it about half an hour ago, in fact. This is why love is so abstract a concept: One can claim one moment that love does not exist, and yet the next can be so swept away by so complex a feeling that nothing else matters. Tomorrow I shall eat these words and love will seem so noble and wonderful again. For now, though, I am merely thinking.
This reminds me that I must sayt that these words aren't even necessarily how I feel. I just like to argue . . . even with myself.
I'm going to skip beauty for now. Maybe I'll care enough to write about it later.
Good and evil! This, perhaps, is one of my favourites, because they are so close together that one tiny incident can transform one into the other. Let us take, for example, a young woman whose family is murder. Her family dies, she mourns, becomes quite upset for a time and moves on. She eventually forgives the murderer and becomes a better person for it. Now, let us say the woman took a different path, albeit a similar one until the point when she had forgiven the murderer before. Instead, she kills the murderer for his deeds, he dies, and she remains a tormented soul despite this. Unlikely? Perhaps; however, she equates herself with the murderer in exacting her revenge.
To me, revenge has always been the most ridiculous motive. I have never understood it and I don't think I ever will. Perhaps I am so used to dealing with suffering alone that I don't really find any need in making someone else suffer as I. An eye for an eye? Not my cup of tea. Teach him/her a lesson? Perhaps, so long as they are willing to learn, and so long as this lesson doesn't hinder their learning. But I am rambling!
So, yes. In making she and the murderer equal, she is doing an "evil" deed. Evil is all in the eye of the beholder, though, hence its bizarre ambiguity. To this young woman, her deeds are no more evil than the murderer's, and perhaps she is being righteous by defeating such a blight upon humankind.
I also wanted to touch upon beauty, intelligence, and the world of the material, but that will come at a different time. I'm mainly trying to flesh out ideas here for . . . something interesting. Note that not all of those are necessarily my thoughts. I suppose it depends on what mood I'm in . . . thought I certainly feel the revenge one is true to me.
I would have continued, but I'm tired.
