Sometimes the universe deigns itself to speak to you directly. It tells you something you need to hear, something you’ve suspected but have been too full of yourself, too myopic in your view of reality to admit. It tells you that you are an idiot.

Case in point:

I’m writing this entry with a 500% zoom. Last week, after drinking more than my fill and responding zestfully to the call of “Beach!”, I was struck unawares by a wave and lost my glasses to the sucking maw of the Atlantic. To read more about my ongoing duel with the sea, visit entries from one year ago. (Yea! Broken my bones and banished my sight, but I’ll parry your thrusts yet you watery, villainous rogue!)

The infinite makes the finite look awkward and a little sad. For instance, something said or done repeatedly quickly loses meaning, which makes me ask where that meaning came from in the first place, and how meaningful it really was. When I say “Good morning” to my lab mates, I wonder how long I will have to work there until the greeting sounded threadbare, immature, or simply unnecessary given our common degree of familiarity. How long would I have to live before hugging, or even speaking to a family member felt less like an intrinsic part of our relationship and more like a Happy Days rerun? (300 years? 40,000 years?) What would I do to make up for the feeling those actions once gave; would I even want those feelings back? Would they, too, end up feeling childish, smacking of naïvety? I say yes, and have thought before that perhaps this means we should try to extrapolate our behavior to these future times, when I imagine all actions will be stripped of pretense and all experiences confronted with nonchalance. That seemed to me the natural conclusion, the future being a long period of time, and its example carrying more weight than our limited span here. But I don’t think that anymore, that our behavior now should change. After all, we act based on what we know and have experienced; how can we imagine what we’ll learn over time? Our (temporal) limitation doesn’t make what we do inherently flawed. Unlearned and unwise (without connotation), but not flawed.

I’m not sure why I to dig into the infinite. Possibly my childhood OCD finding another outlet ☺ Catch ya’ll later.