Remember the feeling when you forgot something, something unfathomably important, and you are so close to remembering it; it slips away again, like an eel from the storm-ridden waters of your mind.
You see the lightning, right?
The ambitious sky-scraping waves want to touch the stars. They've been failing for years, but they will still try forevermore with an optimism that is directly opposed to its impending death.
Do you see this?
This is what philosophy feels like.
What it reads like, to us.
***
The only problems happen when the waves do touch the stars, then decide they are better than the earth; they never come back down.
Oh well, now your ocean is depleted.
Don't worry, you still have gems. You just need to mine.
***
Four letters, significant meaning.
M
i
n
e
This soil hasn't been touched before—so it's still soft. It'll be easy.
So you dig, and it was harder than you thought it would be. But you withstand the blisters and you withstand the cries of the crumbling world.
You find an opal, your first one. For a while, it seems more beautiful than the washed-out stars above.
***
But you dug too deep into the soil.
You betrayed it.
So it decided to harden, and burn.
And fracture.
So that you could never betray it again.
***
Now you're marooned.
A charred world without soft dirt, without opals, without a sea.
This is philosophy.
And through this day, you still forgot the basics.
All beings need to eat; now you have nowhere to fish. Nowhere to grow.
Your selfless selfishness killed everything here.
You painted yourself into a corner, and now you starve.
Eternal writer's block.