Wednesday, June 22, 2011
0.01 Celsius - Letter Number 2
You are not inherently special. There is nothing about you that sets you apart from any other biological form on this planet, save another's whim. You require oxygen to breath, sustenance to consume, and water to swallow to survive. By all accounts, you're simply a dependent creature who worships their environment for the blessings of those things that sustain you, those things that give you another moment. Just like the ants you step on.
But that does not mean that you are not capable of mattering.
And it certainly does not mean that you're better than all of those other, inherently, ordinary things...
I have known assholes and I have known saints. Their differences are often so insignificant that the only telling point to be found is in how they say your name.
Your Father knows both creeds. He knows them well. He's been both. Quite often, at the same time.
If I could turn back the hands of time, wrestle them to the ground and push them into the dirt, I would imagine that I would pick a side. I would imagine that I would choose an allegiance. I would imagine that I'd be valiant enough to decide.
But both I & Cher know I can't.
I kill me.
Did that joke fail?
Are you feeling what I'm telling you here?
You're either liquid or you're frozen.
0.01 Celsius is a place you can never be... for Good.
(P.S. Doesn't Anders look kind of... I dunno... like Julia Roberts? Weird, yea? Hell, maybe he just forgot his chapstick that day. = Things that run through your Daddy's mind.)