Excerpts from a Letter Pt. 1— Distinguish

     It’s kind of funny... we always assumed we’d die young. I think perhaps we just hoped it so that we’d not be forced to continually confront our lack of understanding concerning our purpose, this lack which seemed like such a hopeless impediment. We hoped to die somehow poetically premature so as to secure some meaning in accordance with what was then (I speak of my own personal experience) our own rather egocentrically conceived artistic expressions. But as it is and contrarily, we are needed; we are needed alive by so many similarly hopeless souls and jointly by the One who desires us all so intensely and whose plan for an intensely enjoyable life will only work if we exercise a little bit of followthrough; and if we do, I think we shall see both forthwith and in the infinitely extended future, as we may have already seen to some extent, that it will also be very much to our own personal benefit to go on living.

     Oh Alee, I remember way back when we would sit in silence, all of us, in isolated places... Indeed we were listening, listening, listening... Hmm... for what were we listening?

     I remember when we would observe things always, inspecting, scrutinizing for a fragment of beauty come apart from its origin and somehow lodged inside an artifact which we together would discover latent within our own tiny spheres of daily conduction, our day-to-day existence. Indeed somehow we always knew that each fragment had an origin, did we not? ...that they each had divergence from a singular source... Of course! Of course we did, for we always distinguished between the beautiful and the common (though the characteristic of ubiquity was not ever an acceptable definition for the “common.” Rather, “common” was that which did not align with, belong to the family of, nor was disseminated by the truly beautiful. Truly it still is this way).