welcome to my digital house~

~existential ipsum~

oh, what a beautiful world we live in! each day countless people do countless things and there's no way to ever capture it all at once. like searching for the existence of a god in our universe.. you cannot search all of humanity simultaneously and, thus, you will never understand the human experience as a whole. we must all make peace with our place as a part.

there is no greater solace or loneliness than what can be found within the self. you are forever remaking the mistakes of your anscestors. we all are. the world is as beautiful as it is horrifying and each one of us plays a part that is as instrumental as it is small

who's to say if there's any real meaning in life. does there have to be? is there a reason every event that has transpired before us has led us here, or has the endless compilation of human experiences simply ballooned to a point where occurances are less like a linear network, and more like nebulous entropy, endless and random events transpire simply for the sake of occuring? (events without intention, but they happened nonetheless).

perhaps the great meaning, the universal goal in life is to realize that it's entirely subjective. whether you have free will or it's just an illusion, are you not the one who tells your body to move? your lips to speak and your brain to compute? life is an eternal crossroads, deadly serious decisions that are mostly inconsequential at a distance. no matter how long you linger at one intersection of your life, there will always be another waiting for you after it.

you are as pure as a child's laughter. you are as bright as sun through forest leaves. you are the kind old lady who sits outside on her front porch. you are the sun damaged plastic chair she always uses. you are the disgruntled cashier at the corner store who passes her on the way to work. you are the gentle wave they share. you are their fleeting 'hello.'

grip onto your existence firmly, feel your sentience in your heart. you are here now. no matter where you've been before or where you'll go. you are here now. the only consistency in life is that nothing stays the same. everything changes and cycles carry on endlessly. you are here now, but you were somewhere else before. you'll be somewhere else. probably soon. but you're here now. and you'll always be somewhere.

what does it mean to create. to be created? how could we ever hope to conceive of a definition for art? how can something be art if there was no intention behind its creation? how can something not be art when i find it so beautiful? intention plays little role in our lives when things will happen either way. and yet to discount it is so cruel. how can you strip the accomplishments of others by equating their effort to the tides of fate? it doesn't seem fair to thank your god for what the farmer gave you.

like light rays falling on the moss through leaves, moments of your life are can be blinding, beautiful,