Lately I am dealing with a severe case of ennui. Existential boredom. How can that be? So much knowledge to learn? The disciplines of the mind reduce to exercising human perception. This is starkly limited and easily exhausted. From basic human premises of philosophy and science you can extrapolate any argument that has ever arisen in consensus reality.
Even the cosmic humour of seemingly random events grows old. One joke told far too much. When you really get it, it is hard to tell whether you should laugh or cry. These illusions of efficacy, or a sort of immortality through creating a legacy.
Life seems a carnival of flesh. If you will not partake, or if your tastes run for aspects of reality beyond the flesh, your appreciation of your confinement can only be limited at best. The universe has much left to discover, but some of us are of limited means and world exploration is not really an option. Instead, I must rely on my limited faculties to produce a sense of engagement that falters chronically.
To eschew material prosperity is to deny the obvious impact of physical life on the mind and spirit. To pursue material prosperity for its own sake and to actualize nothing more, this is the issue and to have the desire to actualize, but not the means.
Lately my ennui stems from a failure to create. Oh as far as dismantling things, this I do quite well. Almost even without my consent, just a natural dissonance arises and creative work seems to dissolve. Reality seems really very fragile. And having some unwished for dependencies that my natural inclination precludes, creates a frustration leading to burn out.
Your thoughts are welcome. Be well friends.
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