In the West, we are inexorably goal oriented. [Style: Start with a pronouncement that stakes a claim to absolute truth.] Though there are many who seem listless and driftless, pure as non-volitional babes, any such calmness is either an informational horizon fallacy (created by imagining that the world you see is the world that is) or a brief caesura in the unyielding Western drive towards greater and greater organization and complexity —
And I said this to her yesterday [and an aside, knowing, of course, that I have other occasional readers, and one very special one, the pain she must feel to have a third-person singular that is not keyed to her index, all I can say, is am upset about it as you are, almost, but this is the driftlessness I speak of, the illusory driftlessness that is similar to how as a Child I did not have the attention or focus to be able to see the minute hand on the schoolroom clock tick its movements, even though the school day did inevitably come to an end, AND ipso facto, there is always movement, if not direction, and possibly, movement without direction is not a wholly unmitigated ill] –
that the world will continue, and our civilization will strive and thrive (though there may be many broken egged omelets on the way, it is possible that the nightmare hell of the middle 20th will return to bloody us all once again, though maybe not, or maybe its happening right now, in ways we can’t imagine) and become increasingly more organized;
but, perhaps, lets pursue complexity, and greater beauty, and inner and outer twisting, and it is possible, certainly, that the girl with mushroom-poisoned eyes who watched and saw the twistings and turnings of consciousness knows more of heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
Instead of direction, growth. Instead of targets, organization. Instead of states and levels, just places and layers. Not better or worse than better, though you used to be a mouse person and might be a mouse person again –