Abyss--A Sunday Journal

(I wonder if Ingmar Bergman wrote despairing journal articles before creating one of his metaphysical masterpieces... Not that there's a masterpiece waiting in any of the following...)

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Imagine that someone said to you, "Come on, engage in this activity.  It's colorful, full of a variety of things to do.  You can do just about anything you want, unless others (who are more privileged/more weaponed/more unfeeling/more unscrupled) hold you back.  Part of the "fun" is overcoming all of that.  You'll know pleasure sometimes, and will laugh, and see a lot of things, both sublime and horrible.  You might even know love at some point...   You will also experience a lot of pain.  A lot of it.  You will feel pain no matter what you do to avoid it.   And sickness: that is a given.  Your friends and loved ones will also suffer, and you will be helpless to alleviate it. And the longer you engage in this activity, the more you will find that the playing field we call "the world" is even worse than you could have imagined.  And you will wonder if your attempts to make something beautiful are merely an obscenity in such a place that thrives on ugliness.   But hey, amid all of this sadness and hurt there's a lot of fun and good feeling to be found!  The only catch, the one thing you're really certain of, is that at some unspecified time during this activity, no matter how long you engage in it, you will die."

That's life.

If I knew what was required, if I were given a choice before being delivered to the playing field, I would have said, "No thanks."  Of course, none of us is given a choice.