Thoughts On Existence

It rages still, that great dichotomy among the puzzled ones in search of one clear archetype that marks reality; what is it... every thing at all, or nothingness? Each opposite, a fodder rich indeed to test for truth. Each has its champions, and each brings deep contempt. So let us wallow with them; It does not become us to demur. Origins may be dismissed, for thingness rides on creeds too busily involved to narrow down to a disinterested, non-theistic choice. There must be higher ground if grounds there be at all. Of necessity, they lie beyond our touch...or anyone's. Blind, we are to sight and sense, to logic, speculative formula and even wild imagining by ages yet to come. Surely it is madness, all this nothingness that we are left to contemplate, yet mind is unable to do that-- are we agreed? That we are raving idiots appears to be our single road. It is too high a price for me. I shall not pay, and cannot, of course. I am devoid of reasons or their source; happily bereft, it would appear, even of myself. ~