The Howling Infinite

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But as in landlessness alone resides the highest truth, shoreless, indefinite as God – so better is it to perish in that howling infinite, than be ingloriously dashed upon the lee, even if that were safety! For worm-like, then, oh! who would craven crawl to land! 

The one indisputable, irrefutable, true-ass fact of life is that it’s pointless. Your life has no meaning, value or purpose. Nothing you do matters and you’re going to die. You can drape any false narrative you want over it, but the underlying truth remains the same. That’s not belief speaking, life is knowably meaningless because meaning is knowably impossible. You can have whatever meaning you want within the false context of your own private dreamstate, but outside of false context you can’t have any. That’s what nonduality means. 

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There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair we call life when a man takes this whole universe for a vast practical joke, though the wit thereof he but dimly discerns, and more than suspects that the joke is at nobody's expense but his own.

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