meteor

     Do you ever wonder what a meteor might see when it flies past planets, just close enough to spot some life? Assuming, that is, that a meteor could see anything in the first place. I imagine it's some sort of collage of splendid life and grandeur, the life of a meteor, blazing through space. Passing galaxy after galaxy, star after star. I've been somewhat obsessed with meteors as of late, perhaps as a greater representation of a fascination with outer space. I hope that when I die, that someone has read all of my "of moss and wet sand" diaries (if you could call them diaries) and say, "She dreamt of the stars. She always was a dreamer of some kind, be that to the detriment of her academic, professional, or romantic life; she was nonetheless a dreamer." Or something like that.

If a meteor touched down in your backyard, you'd probably die. But while we assume you wouldn't die -- just for the sake of what I'm trying to portray/ask -- let's also assume that this meteor in particular is gifted cosmically with the ability to communicate to the first person that comes in close proximity: and let's say that it speaks to you. It promises you one of three gifts if you touch it, and only one person may receive one of these three gifts before it loses its power: the gift of all knowledge that is possibly to be known, the gift of freedom from the constraints of currency and exchange, or the gift of freedom from entropy and age. Just to sweeten the deal, I'll let you run with those a little in technicality; no wish is without a caveat, monkey's paw, et cetera et cetera. Would you touch the meteor? What gift would you pick?

The first gift scares me like no other. My pursuit in life is knowledge, as Left has ascribed to me -- and Right gives purpose to the journey in the first place. To know is to feel, to dive in the pool is to feel the water, to love is to be vulnerable, to explore is to desire. Knowledge is all components to anything, as life is a game of chance and love, and not much more. I recognize that there is no prize to perfection; there is no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, there is no golden fleece at the end of the maze, there is only Ariadne and her string. As cynical or pessimistic as that recognition might sound, I don't feel although it detracts from the pursuit that is my life in application. The consequence of pursuit is its end, and if you cannot recognize that it will end then you wind up all sorts of twisted; chasing the pursuit instead of progressing the pursuit itself. The only way out, it seems, is through -- we can't go without the pursuit, but we cannot exist chasing the pursuit, refusing to recognize the end -- you can't wake up if you don't fall asleep.

The second gift sounds like a depiction of hell. Freedom from exchange makes you a veritable god, because it means no trades, no trades means no consequences. No risk. The only thing you can risk if the material is given always is your own life, and the immaterial. You'll ruin the chance game. I imagine this gift to bring great change, would it be used for properly humanitarian pursuits, but I doubt the ability of the human to resist the temptation of laze in the face of ease. I cannot think of a single person, mythological or historical, who has been known to be happy and well when they are free from the restraint of exchange. Freedom from exchange means freedom from the chance game, and freedom from the gamble is freedom from the hope. Why hope if every material possession is at your beck and call, why hope when all is as you will it. I suppose it would be perhaps easier to understand if I posed it as a question: you have it all, and now, you hope for what? A swift death? The only freedom to be had when all is granted is freedom from yourself. I don't want to struggle in life, but I would be so dissatisfied if both I had not earned everything which I had, and I had nothing left to earn. There would be no motivation left to pursue -- ironic as the statement may be considering the last paragraph -- when I had granted to me all comforts that which I seek to obtain through earning.

The third gift is the only gift I can see having next to no consequence. As I picture it, freedom from entropy and age means a choice: freedom from a lack of control on the way that time passes through you and the cells that makeup your system of a being. Only one flaw wrinkles my brow in consideration of the last gift; when to choose to die. I can only imagine how it may drive one mad to consider when they've become tired of experiencing all that could be.  If I received that gift, I would no doubt end my life in great resentment of my own willingness to do so, considering the change and good it could further be used for, regardless of however much good I had put upon the world.