meaningless

Half of what I say is meaningless.

I wanted to put everything into writing. I can't. So I shoved my printed articles away. It's silly you know, they don't mean much, if not anything at all. I still wish the words would just come. It's easier that way.

I sat in front of the piano. See, I'm tranced in time. Wondering how a simple "la" or "mi" from a melody could evoke one kind of emotion or another. Thinking about why a simple word as "trance" or a phrase as "tranced in time" could mean so much. To you. To me.

Mean, I said.Meaning is a big word to you.Because you're rational and most of all, human.But just a clump of stardust.You're just made out of stardust. Like everything else around you.
The tune flowed from the piano. One by one the tones spilled all over the living room. Intoxicating. Oddly enough that as stardust as we are, we have a heart to feel whatever sentiment there is to these notes "la" and "mi". And we have a mind to deliberate over whatever the phrase "tranced in time" could mean. But still

Half of what I say is meaningless.

It seems as if our bodies are nothing but labyrinth of machines all intertwined--eyes, brain, fingers work interdependently and mechanically pressing the keys on the piano. And yet meaning is such a big word to us. When all we are is nothing but stardust.

I'm not sure whether what gets more complicated is when you probe deeper into the workings of your mitochondria or what you could make out of basic impulses of 1's and 0's that as if magically, could produce an intricate output such as this. Which is half meaningless.

So there goes our circuitry, our hardware--our crisscrossing nerves and our double-helix DNA. Whatever makes us function a little more integrated and more intelligently? I wonder what. Then again I wonder what makes us wonder.

Could there be a source code? A code of commands, lines, addresses based on pure logic that prompts us to ponder on the question, "what makes us wonder?". Surely, our digestive system is programmed to call a function called peristalsis when needed. Our esophagus is perfectly tailored to do just that. Much like the logic gate, AND is designed for 1 and 1.

But it goes beyond that. Because I still don't have the answer to the question, "what makes us wonder?". Because I'm also programmed to think. To think of what I'm getting at. Of that, I wish I know and I wish the words would keep on coming. Because

Half of what I say is meaningless.

The music reverberated from the piano. What's the nature of the great source code? Is it a culmination of million years of evolutionary undertaking or is there a much more fundamental yet higher source to all sources existing? It's pointless to ask, anyway. But sometimes we find ourselves asking why we have to think so much that we think about why we actually think. And at times like this, all we needed is a life.

Then again obviously, if there were source codes then there must be programmers or possibly One Big Great Programmer. Eventually, I was driven to ask The Programmer why things are designed and programmed as they are and why it was never an open source. Why not? Or was it, the whole time? And we're just not yet capable enough to decode it?

There must be some logic to the whole affair. Because I'm beginning to think that logic is everywhere but the answers are subtle. Of which there is a follow-up question as to why The Programmer has to be hidden even behind logic. Or isn't He/She? Either way, like I said, I only needed a life.

The tempo changed, swifter this time like a story reaching the climax. Can things be otherwise? Like me not stuck at home shamelessly imagining how much entropy in the universe I'm already causing by being too absorbed with stardust? Can you actually exist in another place in another time reading something other than stardusts? Somehow I'm beginning to sound like Carrie making her column in Sex and the City, typing the words: "Can logic leave any freedom at all?".
Because that's not all there is to it. Logic may be everywhere but it's not everything. Can someone so powerful or something so omnipotent defy logic? Like running the whole of the universe oppositely? That's not all there is to it. There's just something more divine about everything. Divine. Like mind arising from gray matter and life out of mundane jostling molecules. And goodness and love out of stardusts like you. Does logic cover that? How far can logic get?

And if we could just reduce these most divine things into mathematical equations then that would be the ultimate triumph of science and humanity. The melody slowed down and finally came to rest. But I'm a complete dreamer. And

Half of what I say is meaningless.

I wanted to put everything into writing. I can't. So I asked myself whatever do I know. It's silly you know, I don't know much, if not anything at all. I still wish logic would just come. It's easier that way.

I went back to my table full of circuit diagrams. See, I'm tranced in time. Wondering how a simple "0" or "1" from a latch could evoke one kind of output from another. Thinking about why a simple quote as "stardust" or a statement as "you, like circuit boards, are stardust" could mean so much. To you. To me.

While half of what I say is still meaningless.