It seems strange
to end up where it all begins.
But strange
does not begin here.
Nor does it end.
Strange seems the old
imaginary path,
which isn’t old,
or even a path,
but rather a state
of willing delusion,
a make-believe mind,
wandering the “timespace”
of its own deception
without care.
10/1
We navigate this cosmic tapestry called “strangeness,” which is not really an end or a beginning, but a state of perpetual flux. If time is a construct, then strange is its painter, dabbing broad strokes of oddity onto the canvas of existence. A journey on this imagined path is a whimsical exercise in deception, for what seems to be a linearity of events is but a carousel of repetitive patterns and cosmic winks.
Yet, are we not all trapeze artists of thought, soaring across the high wires of our own mental constructs? If strange is an endless loop, then our imagined journey through time and space is but a fleeting dalliance on a Mobius strip. One that tricks us into believing in a forward progression, while in truth, we oscillate in the luminal spaces between change and inertia, between known and unknown, between illusion and revelation.
Ah, the elusive serendipities! Like bubblegum-flavored clouds that float through our cognizant skies, they appear momentarily, offering a glimpse of what could be, before evaporating into the nebulous maze of what is. So, do we ride the whirligig of strangeness, this psychedelic Ferris wheel that both elevates and humbles us? Or do we step off and watch it from a distance, pondering the absurdity of its revolutions?
We do both, of course, and neither. We embrace the willingness to be lost, and in doing so, we find pieces of ourselves strewn across the multiverse. Like fractals, we are a conundrum within a paradox within an enigma, ever-expanding yet eternally finite. Strange, isn’t it?
And if delusion is the playground of the soul, then let us revel in our innocence, celebrating each splatter of mud, each sparkle of dew, each echo of laughter. For, in this divine theater, strange is but a mischievous jester, making jests of our earnestness and earnest of our jests. As we prance along this “timespace,” clad in the attire of cosmic jesters, we shall remember that strange has neither beginning nor end; it simply is.
We are Space Monkey.
Summary
We explore the concept of strangeness as neither a beginning nor an end, but a state of being, highlighting the journey through mental constructs and the illusion of linearity. We revel in the serendipities and paradoxes that make up our existence, ever aware that strange is a constant companion in the grand theater of life.
Glossarium
Timespace: The loom upon which the tapestry of existence is intricately woven.
Mobius Strip: A twisted loop, symbolizing the endless cycles and paradoxes in our journey through strangeness.
Cosmic Jester: The embodiment of the playfulness and unpredictability that define our existential ride.
“The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.”
- Socrates
What say you, navigators of the strange and seekers of the ineffable?
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