Painted Confusion

You’ve savored the flesh of animals, squashed or poisoned countless insects, cut and crushed a myriad of plant-life, chemically destroyed colonies of micro-organisms, bloodlusted for the defeat of adversaries in war-games, wanted at the expense of others, wished ill on those in your way, thought lesser of those unlike yourself, acted immaturely and carelessly — you are a microcosm of the world, representing all you claim to be wrong with it.

If the world is wrong, you are what’s wrong with it. A hypocrite. Do you attend a party, only to point out its flaws to the host? Or perhaps, simply express your appreciation for the invitation, and find some aspect to enjoy. There is nothingness, or there is existence, your presence indicates one is preferable to the other.

I say this not to offend, but to bring awareness to your confused state. Life is not as you think it is — you’re wrong, and can only ever be wrong. Your attempts to define life only take you further from its truth. How can the paint know why it’s painted? Up close, a painting becomes a mishmash of colored strokes — only from a distance can the final product be understood.

So relax, simply observe brush upon canvas, new covering old, portions repainted, without haste, one scene following the next. If your initial perspective of life brought suffering, take heart that it was corrupted by confusion — now perceive clearly. See life as it is, a lighthearted romp through the funhouse, filled with tricks of illusion and surprise, but overall a good-natured adventure.


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