Laughing Chasms
There are days that are so occupied by unexpected, inexplicable and problematic events that once you finally rest your head you feel that you deserve some kind of explanation. As none is forthcoming it is common to have recourse to Divinity or ideas of Bad Luck or Fate. Then as a last defence you will try to become as unresponsive as possible to accidents and untamed possibilities. This latter choice of course involves reducing all likelihood of threat or risk, to close yourself to phenomena that may show you the yawning and laughing chasms of boundless life all around you. Many bow their heads and close themselves to the possibility of life’s poetry because they mistake it as a ruse, an illusion and the work of a trickster whose only motivation is to drive them to the path of mania. It is precisely laughter that reveals truth. Laughter is a verification that one has come close to understanding. To have come close to a revelation only to be discarded, to throw oneself clear of reality’s charge. Or is it that those that laugh the deepest and hardest, those that often laugh inwardly at this life, have rooted themselves in despair and in doing so command demons? These are the same ones that laugh in appreciation and acknowledgement of beauty and fear and fascination. These are the insomniacs and losers and wasters and idiots. These are the people who have no plan that most would recognise. This world is a mere map for the land that they know. It is only the first, brightest impression, not of the next world, but of the possible. It is the constant beginning of the world’s dimensions whose contours and furrows stretch endlessly into the shadows and through whatever wilds the imagination can summon. |
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