midnight

I’ve had the urge lately to relearn everything I’ve forgotten over the years—things I have no use for other than the pleasure of understanding more about the universe and our place in it. I often write about the space around me because the idea of existence, inanimate or otherwise, boggles my mind. How does anything exist? The why is somewhat irrelevant to me, I have my own beliefs on the matter (pun) as does everyone else, but the idea of matter and antimatter and vacuums and space in general, the fact that all of it is, is something I have yet to fully grasp. I am in awe of everything around me, even that which I cannot see. Even that which I can only imagine, or do. I am in awe of how everything is connected in one way or another and how the physical does not encompass the whole of nature. This borders on philosophy, which is why mathematicians and physicists are and always have been philosophers. Existence is wrapped up in theory and confirmed mathematically as far as we can tell. Newton had it all worked out in his day, and his laws still hold in the macro world. But Bohr and Einstein and countless others saw deeper to a place where Newton’s laws do not apply. And someday we will discover new physical laws that violate the ones we have established. With all that man has discovered, we are still searching for answers. There is so much left to know, so much that is still a mystery, and so much that we don’t know we don’t know.

I have a friend who developed a mathematical equation, two of them—a new view into the abstract. For years he lived in that abstract world, and he returned with a new way for us to see ourselves. He stepped into another dimension and saw what no one else did.

I had a different friend a long time ago who was equally as fascinated by all that is. He asked me once how many times I had been around the sun, and I was suddenly connected to something greater than my immediate world. Everything, everything, connects us.

It’s late, and I should sleep, but my mind is reeling. I’ll read this later and wonder what I was thinking when I wrote all this nonsense. But at this moment, I feel everything. I feel the desk over there, the lamppost on the street, the beating of hearts and galaxies hurling through the vacuum of space.

So tomorrow when you read this, you should know that the thoughts that moved you to write were actually feelings that needed to be expressed.

You are complicated, and you have met your match. Delve further.

And get some sleep.

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Author: uncaged

When Picasso painted a blue Seated Woman in a Chair, he was unconsciously thinking of me.

2 thoughts on “midnight”

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