Accidental philosophy
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Setting the scene here real quick then I'll tell y'all what happened.
Me and my friend(who shall now be referred to as S.A.) we're texting about an English assignment. I don't know what happened but for about 30 mins I ended up typing a rather large amount of philosophy-Esque texting(which was roughly equivalent to the word count of the paper I just finished and at the time was whining about).
Anyways here's the excerpts.
As always, attempt to refrain from posting until I put a -end please! -
S.C.-Me neither.
Im on my third paragraph, though. Hopefully that means conclusion next. Then to type.
Me: I'm at 259 words.
S.C.- Im going to have no sleep tonight. :(
Me:I'm going to embrace the darkness outside as I change white to black on my computer screen. And only when the light breaks the surface of the earths curvature and thus conquers the dark will I truly have conquered the light upon my screen which will thusly be covered with the blackness of the written text. -
S.A.-Too much to take in at this hour.
Get back to me on that in 2 days.
Me:Still I work meticulously, redefining an argument I care not about and Mayhaps creating a new image of myself in the process. An image which will for a grade deny itself the life blood of slumber. A dark and shriveled version of oneself indeed. Much like a pathetic creature coveting a ring which bares only momentary significance. I am thus reduced.
S.A.- Noooooo
Me:A good grade! Ooh shiny! It satisfies only wantonly and shortly, for only 1 week from now the slate is wiped clean again. In the grand scheme nothing is learned except to rewrite the ideals of others, which assuredly is a necessary skill. We have been and will be doing it for the rest of our lives. Are we no more than a ctrl c and ctrl v button? Do we speak or just reiterate? I pretend not to know the answer. But the one constant thing is that time ticks on and he is just waiting to press ctrl x. -
And hopefully when that time comes we have atleast formed one of our own passages in the novel of information, that can once again be reiterated by another. In this way something is gained and a meaning of life can be derived.
S.A.- please stop
Me:But although typing that may seem altruistic, maybe even sage. It is in fact just another mode of procrastination, By which I abide in the hopes that if I don't look at my paper long enough that it will potentially disappear, quantumly it is a possibility. A minute possibility, but none the less any light in a sea of dark may be looked at with some feeble hope of deliverance from that cold despair... A despair so deep that one does anything to escape it. Thus we dream, a dream is but that, a flicker of light in the dark of night. -
S.A.- Oh my fucking god. Seriously.
Me: And so on this trail I trek, waiting until my train of thought derails, only interrupted by a glance toward the paper. It's there now taunting me with its inexplicable ability to write itself. It groans like a hungry monster for me to regurgitate information into it, and with every second I withhold this stream, it scowls, morphing it's features into a sinister face which only disappears when I look upon it. I seem to be Holding a captive audience In you. You may look away for a time, knowing surely that within the confines of your phone lies another philosophical inquiry into the nature of why, but soon the beck and call of that Vibration will be too great to shy away from. It is but mankind's curiosity which drives you, it is not your fault that you look. It is but a primitive instinct given to you by the predators which your ancestors were. -
Within ceaseless wall of text of my writing may lie something that will be of use to you in the fight against mortality, this is what your brain thinks. And that is why you look. In this way I am a mental terrorist to you, holding you hostage pyschologically. With a paradoxical Stockholm syndrome, your brain likes the income of information but after reading it regrets it's consumption. This cycle repeats as long as I type, but I have a page to write so I must stop. And so I shall now barring inspiration rearing is ugly head. I truly apologize for my capturing of your interest, and so I end. Hopefully, I may complete this paper before the urge to write hits me again. But hopes fade just as we do, and with its waning may come a motion of the finger, a tap, and then another regret in myself for wasting more time.
-
S.A. Ignore.
Me: Okay I've snapped out of It now. Sometimes I get possessed like that...
Me: I quite honestly don't exactly know what I just wrote unless I go back and read it
Me: Well, shit that was depressing.
S.A.- I stopped reading halfway through... -
Me: I would have too... I wonder if she would take that as a critical essay of its own lol
S.A.- She most definitely would not!
Me: It's most definitely 500 words!
Me: or she would count it as the babblings of a madman
S.A. It's probably that one...
-end
I know it's not funny like most mine, but it is somewhat interesting. Like I said I didn't realize what I was writing til I was done. Maybe I'm crazy, but my self-esteem( otherwise known as obnoxiousness but I digress) will not allow me to believe it. -
I guess unintentional would have been a better title but then again even unintentional actions have a reason behind them; whereas, besides procrastination that outburst had no reason. Although accident sounds like I was walking and tripped, ten the resulting fall cause the buttons to be Punched in such a way that philosophy formed. The statistics behind that would be immense though. Given enough time 100 monkey's with typewriters will recreate Shakespeare is a common saying. But I feel The typewriters would break or get all mucked up before any true writing were formed. Also an interesting question in that situation would be would the monkeys type Shakespeare in old English or the current on. It'd be pretty hilarious if they got it in Spanish. Especially considering typewriters don't have certain Spanish characters such as the almighty tilda.
-
Woah, way to much to read.
-
I read it all... and enjoyed.
-
I would have handed that in as my paper. May not have been on topic but it would've been great to watch your teacher read it.
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