What I really want I can never have.
Because the opportunity was never there, and time stands still for no one.
Knowing what their best times were.
Knowing who they were inside.
Knowing what the ghosts had of value before they became ghosts.
And value in that context does not mean financial.
What they loved.
What they hated.
Most of all what they were.
And there is no chance.
No Mulligans.
I have to make it all up on my own.
Assigning values and contexts.
Based on history and imagination.
Unsatisfactory at best.
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2 comments:
Values and contexts don't exist outside of your mind anyway. Even those of flesh and blood right in front of you are recreated in your own private universe. There apparent reality crosses vast chasms of empty space as waves of energy and gets translated by your brain - giving them context based on a gazillion patterns that make you up.
You can never know for sure that anyone exists outside of your mind.
Let them go, both the living and the dead - and get closer to satisfaction.
That last line is like a zen koan. But the problem with it is that I am so stupidly attached to it all, and have assigned everything with such tremendous significance. Thus rendering the whole thing moot- we enjoy our suffering, no?
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