Lately I've been feeling this overwhelming sense of obviousness, for lack of a better word, accompanied by a complete lack of surprise. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing...
I'm no longer surprised that trolls say trolly things, that the plots of movies/books go in a certain direction and not another, that game mechanics are trading off resource X with reflex Y, that a certain researcher is looking into a specific class of problems - however abstracted from the real world and even when such explorations inevitably explain unconnected real world phenomena - or that there are words in some language for just about everything...
It feels like I've wandered into Borges' library, and now looking out at the world through its windows... I'm grown strangely silent, suspicious of the state of having opinions, be they my own or others'. If everything is an obvious inevitable emergence within a probability space, what use is an opinion to the contrary? Like wishing the sun would look better rising in the west, or being personally convinced that emerald would've been a better colour choice for blood. Surely, entertaining such thoughts on preferable oughts add nothing to the library.
Which begs the question, what then is left to do once you've reached the library, and all knowledge is at the tip of the right shelf reached with the right ladder? Surely all there is left to do is find the most beneficial idea at the most opportune time to salve the burns that reality will inevitably sear upon us... Can't remember which book that was from, no doubt written by some wise soul surely, found again and lost again endlessly in a sea of words roiling roiling within reality's eternity. Farewell then old sport, may you always find the wisdom you need, and may you take strength from the camaraderie of others past present and future who share your perspective, if only for a moment.