Sunday, March 23, 2003

Socrates said that the most important thing in life was to know thyself.

When I look at my dogged existence, I say the man was only half right. Such wisdom leaves me hanging.

I say thou canst only know thyself when thou art known. I think I know myself only too well. It's just that I sometimes deem what I know about myself to be too detrimental for the common knowledge of those closest to me. What if they knew what I'm really like? That I am notoriously unpredictable? That I can falsify my outward emotional/spiritual states of being to service my reclusivity? That my cycles of being "on" spiritually seem to be overshadowed by my waywardness?

What can I really know about myself that is not validated and affirmed by another......or the Other? How much of what I perceive about myself is folly? What is gradiosity and what is cold reality?

Oh, I don't know where all this cacophony is leading to. Maybe just bending my ear to the emerging discordant harmonies of my life I suppose.

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