SCIENCE FICTION

the world's bigger than i sometimes realize. it's so big, in fact, that its size is irrelevant. and so in that way it becomes small again. just imagine that. like one of those shitty science programs from the early nineties, a camera zooms in on a view of the globe, zooms in up close, and then zooms out, this time further than before, until the world is so small that it cannot be seen.

i can't stop listening to this brian eno song called "dead finks don't talk." i can't stop staying awake all night. i can't stop yearning for adventure. i can't stop feeling extremely pissy and anxious, and yet at the same time extremely warm and awestruck. i want to throw myself into the kind of world that is perceived as far too big, and then, square foot by square foot, make it smaller and smaller until my years and days are up.

sometimes i want to be done thinking about love. love is something bigger than any person and bigger than the very globe whose size we have already pondered. it's huge, and yet it's so huge that it cannot be seen. we know it exists all around us, and yet the frustration found in trying to tangibly feel it or trying to point it out and say, "hey, that there... that there is love... i knew it was here somewhere," causes us to create things that attempt, or momentarily succeed in, the obliteration of it. violence and anger and rage and numbness and what-have-you. 

the moments of greatest awareness and love that i have experienced have been in the most vile of situations. men dying and oozing pus and coughing up shit on sidewalks somehow make me aware of a kind of love that isn't situationally bound, or bound by any kind of prejudice. that, right there, is a love that doesn't care about physical beauty. it's a kind of love that pays attention to that which is ugly. we hate seeing these things, maybe because we hate realizing that these things incite a feeling of love in us. we hate to love that which is vile.

perhaps the most noble thing in the world would be to refuse to let your love be bound by any one person. this kind of love would be huge, and would be spread out evenly amongst all people and all things. and yet for the people in one's life, this kind of love would be so minute that they wouldn't be able to feel it. is it better to isolate love to specific areas, or to have it be an all-encompassing blanket-like entity, free of discrimination, and blind to wrongs or rights? i want to find something specific in this world that i might feel deserves my fully-focused love, but the entities that i like the most are also the most free with their own love. or they are the things that are hardest to see the love within, because they don't speak of it. people can be like this. or huge fucking glorious deserts can be like this. they don't speak of love, so it's kept sacred, and something in the silence of these entities keeps the power of love itself fully intact. you can sense it, but it is not yours, and you can trust it more than the love of any other, but only with the knowledge that it will not be yours. perhaps you trust it BECAUSE OF the knowledge that it will not be yours, or at least not yours alone. in fact, it will only belong to a specific individual if that individual represents, in the eyes of the lover, the entire world. maybe we trust this kind of love the most because we are aware that love, even our own, cannot be given to one person alone. we can be faithful in action, but love itself seems something that is wild and cannot be held within any kind of boundaries.

maybe this is the kind of love we are, societally, growing towards. the irony is that, if fully manifested in everything, this kind of love would result in the altogether absence of any kind of preference. so would we sleep with everyone around us, or with no one at all? imagine a situation where the latter were the case. the human race would die out, because we would love each other so equally that we would be unable to decide who to sleep with.