Recursive Words

Nietzsche once wrote “if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you”. I think I’m starting to understand his words.

It’s kind of a reverse Stockholm syndrome, isn’t it – where if you find yourself in a given situation often enough, the situation seems to present itself for you to fall into – and you can almost feel yourself being drawn in, in spite of any concern or foreboding that might normally deflect.

While we may call it chance, or coincidence, the Celestine Prophecy reminded us many years ago that there are no coincidences. What will be, will be – was always going to be, and will always be. Even the multi-verse doesn’t save us; we’re always in the middle of the timeline that’s unfolding around us – we’re never aware of the myriad alternatives branching out at any and every moment.

People have written at length about it, and even sung songs about it. Endless songs filled with angst and longing.

If you think about it too much, you just end up spiralling – or at least, that’s what I think. I suppose that’s why I fall back on placing one foot in front of the other so often – walking straight past the slippery slopes so many seem to fall victim to.

You might call it cynicism, or fatalism, or a hundred other things. I tend to think of it as pragmatism.

Anyway.

Enough of this nonsense.

It’s one minute to midnight on Sunday evening at the time of writing. By the time I finish this sentence, Monday will have arrived – and the inexorable tick of the clock towards getting up, having a shower, brushing my teeth, and throwing myself at the coal-face of the pixel mines once more.

The pixel mines that have several unimaginably deep holes ready and waiting for me to fall down. Because they know me – and I know them.