Dark matter is my home

What are diversions?

They are cleverly placed decorative props that insulate us from grounded reality and introspection.

Why are we alienated from introspection? Why is it we do all in our power and spend money seeking to escape the fearful scourge of…introspection. We conjure up every little mental, physical, emotional, sexual, and culinary activity just to avoid tackling the dreaded chore of peering inward, or worse, not experiencing. Diversions produce nothing, contribute nothing. They flamboyantly instill a false sense of accomplishment and petty happiness. Diversions are like the Human Resources of life. They are waste. Pure, odious, waste.

I have no patience for diversions.

Why do people insist on diversions when there is so much less to do. Notice I didn’t say so much more to do. We ward off ennui with material essence but run from voids. Why can we not embrace nothing? Why can we not fall in love with that which goes unspoken, unloved or undone? We are enraptured with the arrow of fullness and forward activity. We don’t make time for the vacuum. Why? The vacuum of our soul, the vacuum of our existence? Does a vacuum necessarily counteract the premise of existence? No. Existence can Be or Not Be. Yet, we are unable and unwilling to fathom an existence that is Not Be.

Many time I prefer to sit and observe. All the time, really. I avoid engaging. This is why I do not like gambling, sports, social groups…these activities swallow my cognition and spit it out empty. They ask me to participate emptily. Mostly, I have no desire to do anything other than watch and feel and let the warm breeze and sunny clouds rain down upon me. The din of life is disturbing enough. It is soothing and preordained when I stare at an empty pond for hours. Because that is where I live.

I am happy to live in the void, in the dark matter. My habitat.