I sit amidst the night in thought and leisure. In silence, the world my theatre for I can prepare my speech, soon or distant. All my actions, philosophies, principles and innovations; each one of my perceptions, delights, hatreds and desires formulate in private in preparation of distributing them aloud. However aloud, they shall have mistakes or be misinterpreted.
I write electronically from a chair. Moving without stepping, discussing without talking, meeting without proximity. A progression of time, collective brilliance and suffering have led to modern triumphs of societal pleasure. Supported now and in the future by the protection and remedy that we provide each other. Yet, technology will fail me, potentially losing such information forever.
I hear the resonance of my thoughts transcribed into practical existence. Seeing before me the realisation of my own perspicacity and feeling the satisfaction at the tips of my fingers as all things important to me lay into permanent memory. Even with such senses, I can be deceived.
I investigate by what method I can do wield such majesty. Smallest of the small does the importance reach, magnifying the effect of one amongst many. If the frequency by which minute functions may amplify by necessity of reality at large, the simple becomes the complex. Surrounding such elegance is the failed mess that lay in waste of advancement.
I anticipate all that awaits me. Response to the dispersion of notions via technology permitting them to be read, interpreted and considered. The effects they may have, and the effects of others as they similarly share ideas, while survival dictates what should drive us forward. With these new horizons, storms follow in wait.
I accept my role as a part of the beauty of the imperfection of all parts of life and the environment in which it lives. Would I give up expression as to never be wrong, technology to never be overwhelmed, senses to never feel pain, science to never understand, or logic to never be frustrated by the unreasonable? Despite the grandeur of the universe, it is not perfect, nor would I want it to be.
Nature can be beautiful at a glance, but do not leave it at that. Do not underestimate the underlying awe that can be arrived by understanding unto itself. Hesitate to distress at perplexity, refrain from condemning investigation of the unknown, and never be satisfied with the disclaim of the impossible.
To place nature at the will or necessity of rules or power beyond it is to scoff at the simple elegance that provides us, however cruelly, with the capacity to do so in the first place.