More Pondering

As I said before, I will not pursue the wind, for there is nothing in it for me. Although I spent the better part of my teenaged years attempting to grasp the meaning behind it, although I was, in all sense of being, Sibyl Freid when no one was looking, I actually do belive that there is nothing in the wind other than sheer romantic joy. Now, there's no fault in standing still in the middle of the road to only lap up the wind--sheer joy is not a cause for reprimand; if it were, I'd be guilty along with the rest of the human race.

The connection with this force is something I treasure, mostly because it allows me to feel the tangible link between myself and the rest of the world. maybe this is selfish of me; the fact that I am striving for a bit of significance in the universe, or at least the feeling of it. But this is the fundamental element of our nature that makes us human: find significance for ourselves, because it doesn't matter when measured against the cosmos--only for ourselves. So I've switched this narrative, haven't I? I'm speaking to someone else now. No matter, you'll understand, too, like you always do.

Human significance only matters to man, so I belive it futile to go on an on about how little we matter to the universe. We matter to ourselves, and that is all that counts. All one needs is a single other to attain significance, and sometimes that one other is himself. The latter does no suffice for me, though. I need to know that for at least one other, I make some kind of indelible mark upon the world.

Now I've lost my train of though, so I'll end this, but hopefully, you've gained something from this seemingly nonsequiter musing.