There’s a moment in every person’s life where they dream, and they dream hard. And a certain percentage of the time, the person may let herself pursue her dream. And of those times, it may be the case that this person accomplishes her dream. And it could happen that once achieving her goal, her dream, her jumping off the deep end into the waters of Unknown with nothing but Trust to catch her, this person tears open the very fabric that held her life together, revealing the nothingness underneath.
And it’s possible that upon seeing this nothingness, the person sees the inherent freedom in this meaninglessness and substanceslessness of life. This could free her to dream bigger, to pursue those expanded dreams, to achieve them, to keep striving, joyously, unhindered, free–
And it is also possible that this tiny tear, this vision into the underlying vacancy of it all, wipes out all orientation toward the future, toward what “matters,” toward her wants, toward her very self, such that she’s rendered dumbfounded, aimless, incurious, blank as the universal underpinnings she saw–
And it just so may be, then, that she deconstructs her life, portions out her values, removes all distractions head by head along the chopping block, a literal self-destruction process by which she seeks how far deep the nothingness goes–
Or, it is imaginable, that she instead free writes and posts to an old blog while drinking pomegranate cider and dreaming up the sequel to the bad B movie that her life has seemingly become.
