into
or around a small estuary are hopes shadowed by dreams. such muddy sediments or
foggy conditions nor were days bright with verve. by sounds to find caves by
minds to capture a hunch insomuch as to struggle with conclusions. beliefs are
murky they shift or complicate so often, while most are jettisoned with time. I
was a lad by firm pillars where I was introduced to doubt: the beautiful
creature, indeed, liberating, where we find a conundrum. if I deflate beliefs, I
seem groundless, where my edifice becomes the countenance of suspicion. to need
microscopic truths, in an abstract universe, while coercing evaluation. some
things are given. in such a sense to offer comfort. while intimate things we
try to support. “I love the child in my womb.” we don’t question that. but one
could, and we would be perplexed. but if one were smoking, while pregnant, we
would point-out the contradiction. but what have I to hold to? I replace
beliefs with suspicion. I become the greatest Doubter to have ever lived. so,
doubt becomes its beliefs. I’d hold a number of vice-grips, compiled by
systematics, and I would apply them to every supposition. thus, doubt becomes
religious, in its dogmatic properties. (the thing I am refuting seems to be the
thing I have transferred, where, indeed, I adhere to a secular religion.) we
enter something gray. this want for position. if but to replace the ultimate
ideal. “I need the Absolute located in pure humanness or I’d prefer that
nothing be absolute.” it becomes argumentation: its application, its study, its
rhetoric.
