free will or determinism; do you have a choice?

free will or determinism; do you have choice?

fiction
Edward w Pritchard

Secretly everyone is involved with a personal quest to unravel why they are here, where they are going and when will it be over for them. Denial eventually is not an option, busyness will not drown out the roar of the significant questions and no companion or relationship can comfort you in your quest to understand ultimate questions.

Pity the seeker who has declared God dead; he bears the responsibility of personal Time's end alone and naked.

Admire the seeker who embraces and accepts authentically Epicureanism, eat drink and be merry and a few other higher philosophical virtues incidental to the epicurean outlook; Epicureanism is a fine way to pass the journey until the lights go out for good. In time perhaps one's Epicurean outlook will deepen to include  freedom from fear and appreciation of their [own] absence of pain during their journey.

Hopefully and mercifully, said dead God mentioned above, or meticulous and impersonal science or indifferent hap grants one a long and successful life before ultimate questions begin to trouble them. Comfort and exalt a strong person who is engulfed in coming to grips with their personal destiny. May they bear the uncertainty like a true Stoic. Noble, without pity or remorse.

Here's what I wrote earlier on the subject of free will or determinism; do you have a choice? The choice itself is why you are here, where are you going next and when is it over, if ever. How will you pass your time during your personal quest through this lifetime, here and now. There is so much to do, so many choices so few certainties: Quoting Chaucer again we mustn't take the game too seriously, so it is a few minutes till the dawning of another day here in Ohio, hopefully we will have some sunshine and much petty busyness will follow me throughout another day distracting me in my quest for significance.

the things I owned

fiction
edward w pritchard

The things that I owned were organic whatever there intended use or purpose. Beautiful and intricate to look at but not durable or practical. The parts of the various apparatuses would run to one side if tilted and everything seemed to be alive. Colors were remarkable but unnecessary to the functionality of the utility of the things I owned and possessed. To make matters worse I had become enamored with the beauty of the things I owned.
end

More to come: