I can't even pretend that consistency exists. What a hoax, a scam, a facade! Just a way to pretend that I'm blessing myself when I'm cursing myself in actuality. The very crevices of my consciousness wrote The Ethics of Communication a long time ago. I did not write on pages, but on my heart, mind, and soul. But despite my factual writings, nobody has seemed to have read them. And that's where the shipwreck takes place. I am a ship and your absence is the sand.
Yet sometimes I don't even desire consistency. After all, I am fond of ambiguity. I never want the existence of physical or supernatural objects to simply fit inside of test tubes. To desire such would be, in my estimation, sophomoric. Perhaps it's my lack of interest in consistency which stimulates my interest in entirety?
That being said, consistency and entirety are by no means opposites. Allow me to rephrase: it is my lack of interest in consistent partiality which stimulates my interest in entirety.
When I refer to entirety I am going beyond the physical wholeness of an object. I am asserting that an object which truly holds to entirety has the ability of not being diminished, no matter what circumstance comes upon it. The object is not only whole in the present moment but holds the ability of being whole for all of eternity.
Why would God write eternity on my heart when I am not whole?
Do you ever feel like you're being besmirched while waiting? Waiting seems to take me to places of lunacy. But really, waiting is harmless on its own. Waiting does not take me to places of lunacy. The ends in which I wait to come to fruition, the telos, are what take me to lunacy. I become so desperate for them. I keep on letting them hurt me because they once healed me. Will they heal me again?
So what is it that makes waiting so difficult? Why does it really matter if I'm being held back from the telos for a duration of time? True waiting cannot be eternal. Untrue waiting is just anticipation. I'm afraid that my waiting is vain anticipation.