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Composition of Thought
If an omega is the end of a set as in mathematics (being infinity, there for never ending (virtual logic By: Luis H. Kauffman)) and a nexus is a bond, then and omega- nexus is a combination of the two; the beginning and the end are connected in some manner. This manner seems to be possible in no other way then transcendentally, hence it would mean that rather than being a composure of only ones self or being a part of a single composure one would be unique in their self and derived from other unique forms. The most depictive metaphor for this would be if one were to take a container of liquids, all uniquely polar and of a different hue, and combined them into one mixture. As these liquids collided and mixed with each other they would make new hues and shapes, all in constant and perpetual motion and yet all maintaining their own individuality in rest. Likewise when people are truly alive they take on the essence of the others around them and when they take mental reprieve, a moment to thing and ponder their own condition, they become entirely unique, a product of their intuition, instinct and experience. Each of these forces effects the other such as in music when the sound of the drums resonates along with the shrill whistle of the wood winds and brass, all while humming along with the wails of the classical strings. Instinct would be the drums, beating out the base of us as a person, intuition being the shrill scream at every emotional intersection and experience being the wail of the strings. Just as cultures effect the composition of the local orchestras in music and there style of use so does the cultures of the individual effect the composition of their emotional orchestra and each emotional instruments use. These effects upon each other determine how we become angry, sad and feel joy. As we mature we find new ways to use the instruments we have acquired and developed and we find new instruments to add to our composure and hence add new color to our character. And as a blank canvas is simplistic art, death is silence and is clear in essence, simplistically artful. Our goal a human beings seems to be to prepare a compose before the universal composition of silence over takes us, we are the color on the blank canvas.
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