there is no such thing as a kernel of meaning to anything to be found anywhere. we may dig, and dig, and deeper still we will dig but we will never find it. meaning is contained in a web surrounding us in all directions, forward backwards up and down. but it always has ourselves at the centre and it is constantly expanding, like a universe of galaxies, as we observe the world around us. we will never grasp it in its entirety because our hands are not large enough to gather up all the strands. and there will be patches and holes and the web is fragile; and there will always be gaps because there is an infinite space stretching out from the self and it will never be filled and while we try to fill it up we miss out the little gaps we left behind.

knowledge is a struggle.

to continue on from this analogy - do concepts have a meaning separate from us? assuming the only intelligent life forms on earth are horses, will chairs be chairs? horses, after all, cannot sit. chairs will become pieces of wood pieced together into amusing shapes, or at best, neck rests. they might even be a strange kind of table.

and to continue:

love is blind, but it doesn't exist. not without us, anyhow. it is a cultural construct, i think.

same as justice, which is, similarly, blind. (and somehow, fair.)

i am also bored, and in a i-don't-want-to-work mood.