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My husband has made himself doubly confused.
Seol writes beautifully with the pen of doubt and belief, but twice he has doubled back and scrawled confusion over his words. The freshest ink reads, "I believe that I truly believe in my pleasure," but that is not the prayer his heart needs to raise up and gaze upon in order to heal his soul. For as he writes those words he frets about and doubts about the veracity of his beliefs, the possibility of a self-delusion, he may learn about what his mind considers necessary in order to deem some proposition true or false, but he will not learn to feel pleasure.
( Read more... )
Seol writes beautifully with the pen of doubt and belief, but twice he has doubled back and scrawled confusion over his words. The freshest ink reads, "I believe that I truly believe in my pleasure," but that is not the prayer his heart needs to raise up and gaze upon in order to heal his soul. For as he writes those words he frets about and doubts about the veracity of his beliefs, the possibility of a self-delusion, he may learn about what his mind considers necessary in order to deem some proposition true or false, but he will not learn to feel pleasure.
( Read more... )
