infinite return

hello. i'm back. the silence has been deafening, i'm sure, but inspiration obeys no man's beckoning, least of all mine. especially when pieces of myself have broken free and are wandering this worn world. it is hard to write with holes in your soul.

tonight, i again borrow an idea from milan, simply because it is an idea that i have been turning round and round in the windmills of my mind until i think it may, finally, have unwound itself like a tight spool of thread unravelling.

the idea of infinite return is one that a certain philosopher muses over, and one that milan borrows.

the idea is essentially this. every event, every occurrence in history has weight (again this theme of weight) simply and only because it happens once. if world war two were to happen again and again, it would lose its horror. if the french revolution were to incessantly recur, year in year out, it would no long have any weight. who could revere robespierre if he persisted in beheading people for all eternity? the latter example is one i struggled with. how could an event so large, so important, with such consequences fail to be important? even if repeated? how could the loss of life in world war two fail to matter if it persisted in occurring again and again and again? and so i took it in smaller chunks.

why do we make such a fuss of the end of the week? can you explain that to me? because the end of the week will come again. 52 weeks in a year, on average about 70 years in a lifetime...so why the fuss? it happens again and again and again.
i suppose, if it were to be The Last Week, much like, The Last Supper, then yes, the fuss would be justified, but we are people rushing about in our scrambled lives, and not many of us stop to think that this could very well be the last week and therefore it is actually valuable. but why is it valuable? why is time money? because of the way we experience time. the perceptions and experiences packed like sardines into every second. its not the actual minutes that matter, it's what happens in those minutes. but if those experiences are repeated again and again, well, how valuable would they be? if you ate the same chocolate cake every day, you'd get sick of it. if you saw the same sunrise (cliched, i know) every single day, it would cease to take your breath away.

so, by looking at the smaller things, i think i now understand how an event as 'big' as the french revolution would cease to be so if it recurred every year in history. it would become old news, no one would care. and thus the idea of infinite return comes into play. infinite return robs an event, an experience, of its weight. it makes it light, ephemeral, meaningless. it is because something happens once, and only once, that it is heavy, has meaning. but does this mean i now equate the idea of burdens, or heaviness, with value? i don't know.

a poem for those missed

tears have been flooding from my soul;
a sweet poignant spring rain
that drowns my universe
unstoppable

a sweet release
a beautiful outpouring
of melodic melancholy;
of grief

i miss you