*sigh* I'm so scattered I closed the tab without saving it. It's around 30C at 11:30pm with the air-conditioning on. Tourists have been playing loud music and talking all day. People are driving cars and riding motorbikes along the freeway at high speed so it feels like I'm in some Mad Max film. My head hurts. I'm wired/anxious and don't want to lie down and try to sleep though. Music.. Thank God for music.


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“Ever tried? Ever failed? No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” –Samuel Beckett

Everything changes. Nothing stays the same. Feel the rawness of that fact, the bleeding-meat quality of it. It’s tragically delicious. It’s enchantingly heartbreaking. There’s an awful dread that comes with knowing that we are a fallible, prone-to-mistakes, and imperfectly mortal animal; but there is also a kind of terrible beauty to it, without which we wouldn’t have such concepts as meaning, beauty, and love. The idea that we can learn from our mistakes; that we can transform pain into knowledge, anger into courage, and hunger into love, is a profoundly ecstatic self-overcoming that has the potential to launch us into levels of evolution that we cannot currently fathom.

The cognitive guillotine (McGee’s Guillotine) is a chopping block of self-overcoming. It’s a constant shedding of the superfluous, a consistent “beheading” of the outdated and parochial thinking that has crippled our species into devolution. It’s a spiritual letting, an ontological bloodletting, and an existential letting go. It’s a sacred pruning toward numinous flourishing. So that which comes to us as root can go on as stalk, and that which comes to us as stalk can go on as a flowering, a Fibonacci sequencing of human evolution in the throes of the “journey being the thing;” which soars through the magnanimous glory of falling and getting back up again, of breaking apart and coming back together, of failing and failing better, of living and living better, and striving for that almighty beacon of hope: PHI, the eternal Tao, Infinity, and the unattainable beauty of enlightenment.

Image: Occum's Razor by Scott Schwab