The chicken scratch in his notebook, why the hell was he still keeping a journal? The faded letters soon overpower his thoughts: Life is an oscillation; how deep can you go without falling in? How high can you go without falling off? Life is contrast; how much change has occurred in the given time period? Then it hit him, like a roller coaster that he had ridden one too many times...
How can someone fully appreciate freedom without having endured slavery? How is an individual to recognize their slavery without having experienced freedom? What is black without white; white without black? Such bitter enemies in the world of contrast, yet these elements rely on one another for definition. Life is an ever oscillating shade of grey, yet it is composed of such black and white components; so simple at the ground level, yet infinitely complex as a whole.
Our strive for equilibrium. The end of the world and the saving of the world are, in essence, the same event. Equilibrium denotes inaction, a world without motion or change would be mind-numbing, hell as the Christians put it. Equilibrium also signifies perfection, heaven, however any action committed without an immediate counter balance would offset this stability. All changes seemingly occur either to maintain, or gain equilibrium. Is the purpose of ‘life’ to unbalance the scales, thus facilitating our never ending endeavor towards the equilibrium? It would appear that each step towards the balance would offset another set of scales. Was our purpose to balance or to unbalance?
Both options appeared so pointless, so counter intuitive in the grand scheme. Every action would eventually fade into the indescribable grey of the fourth dimension. Every ripple would eventually disappear in the vast sea of time, become absorbed by other waves, overcome by more prominent ripples. If this was the case, and indeed history had shown it to be, what was the purpose in action? What was the point of change if it would eventually be overcome, eventually forgotten?
This was outer space; a depth that fell to a void; a high that left cloud nine in some minute atmosphere. An area in conscious so fascinating that the only thinkable action is inaction; the only thoughts are those that continue this stream of presumed depth. This state, so fascinating yet so terrifying. Was this place a promise land, or a slavery in itself? What defined negative aside from it being the ‘polar opposite’ of positive; words, just names for the variables. Time to break away, time to accept the shade of grey (was it light or was it dark?). Time to stop thinking and start doing. It was nothing. Time to make it into something.
Putting individuals into ‘outer space’ makes them indecisive, therefore permitting the decisive to decide for them. Those who cannot break away from the uncertain state become dependant on others to decide for them. Those who cannot break away become enslaved. When breaking away, have hope in the point that you are running to. Hope is freedom.