By default the mind is determined to find an external order with which it will meaningfully interact. Whenever I, whoever I am in relation to this mind, get small glimpses of the possible extent of the randomness and meaninglessness of the world and my ultimate isolation in it, it cripples me. I have to drag my mind and body through the world, pulling in pieces of the world, until some interesting pattern inspires the momentum that makes this movement effortless and self sustaining… I suspect that some people can continue to function while keeping this meaninglessness constantly present, but I don’t think I have met any of them. Have you? Is this the goal or the end of goals? I know that place with its absence of meaning exists in me, but for now I step carefully around it. When I stumble into it, I am never certain I will get back out again