I am sailing.

Is it true that what we omit is just as important as what we include, in the larger scheme of things?
That the choices we did not make influence us through their palpable absence,
perhaps even more than the decisions we did take?
Like white would not be white without black, and night only exists in comparison to day,
- are we just binary bundles, held together by the belief that we are masters of our own lives?
Perhaps I am just trying to escape responsability.
By building this theoretical problem out of my own concerns,
by digging into the darker corners of the stormy sea I am trying to contain.
Perhaps I can find a way to blame you for feeling both like a victim and a traitor?
Perhaps I can keep the wind in these sails and just keep going.
I could say that you were spared by the storm,
Your sails are still pristine, heading back to their familiar route, towards the sunset.
And if you feel a little bored, there are picnic baskets and stories to be told.
Everyone loves a good story when the waters are calm.
Of course I'd be wrong.
More than binary bundles, perhaps we are just random reserves of complexion.
Held together by nothing but a will to infer meaning from whatever experience we have survived.
"You" is nothing but a fictitious construct. Me, I am the fingers typing these letters.
Eternal recurrence is not a real thing, is it?


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