It's hard for me to think of anything to write. I feel like in the three months of this blag I've said the same thing over and over. And in two weeks I'm gonna recap it all, anyway (April 27 is gonna be an EPIC post, I'm just sayin', ahaha). What can I say? To quote Ecclesiastes, there is nothing new under the sun...or to quote BNL, it's all been done.
Joseph Campbell, one of the foundations of my big research paper. He equates every story from every culture throughout all of human history. Every culture tells the same story because every person can relate to it because it is his or her own life on a more significant level. (This inspired an existential crisis in me sometime last fall, heh.)
If so much of individual existence is the same, the same, the same, where does the individual find his or her meaning?
I can't answer that question. But, I mean, it doesn't matter if the shit I'm going through, millions of people have gone through before; it's new to ME. All I am is my mind, my personality, my consciousness. THAT is what matters. Cogito ergo sum. 'Tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. The way I perceive the world, my experiences--even if my experiences are nothing novel, the way I perceive them is 100% unique.
And so what?
I don't know.
One of my professors said the key to bringing about social change, to ending racism, to ending oppression, is a life of the mind. To read, to be aware, to be able to relate and consider and maybe, just maybe, understand. This really struck me.
I don't have any answers, but I'm okay with that for now.
anatman.
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