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The bottle tipped over– Gravity won.
The bottle stood still– The bottle defied gravity.
The bottle tilted a bit– Gravity struggled.

Gravity is bullshit. What goes up must come down, unless what goes up does not come down. Motion leads to motion, unless motion is stopped. You know, the laws or theories of this realm of thinking, Science, are so abhorrently wrong, that one may see such things as a religion– you must, before you understand, believe. But, all religions are bullshit. They’re as a cackle of birds: one speaks, another speaks, so assumptions are made that all seek to speak, whether they do or not. If one does not, then they are seen as, “abnormal,” or a new species (that comparison is wrong– I believe in the science of collecting information, whether on species, areas, or beliefs and occurrences, but the science of creating what are seen as , “constants,” are to be kept within the realm and era from which they are observed, and not to be spread amongst different eras or situations, as how a baby would splatter its food over the kitchenware/table, just because it’s easy and fun to do). I know what I’m experiencing, and I draw assumptions and ideas from this constant experience, piecing together a thought with another, and planting a knowledge, whether wrong or right, about what is. I do see things I know are wrong, such as throwing trash on the park ground, or taking a loaf of bread without paying for the loaf, but those effect me in a manner that is not hatred for the doers, or sadness for having done so, but as a means to remember what action was taken, and to perform another if said action is not to my personal liking, or to partake in the freedom of being actionless, however bland or bold such a move may be. This is a rambling; I’m not going back to gravity, as I believe gravity to be a fast way of thinking of the rotation of the Earth in a level, mentally, that may even itself along the shortcuts and diagrams drawn before, without having an experience or a seed planted to see and feel such occurrences in a manner that would be without words, but, rather, with a fluidity of thought, much like the spider, hanging from their web, though their web may eventually be run through or drenched or shook away, but that’s why the spider’s method is within the spider, and not of a single use.

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musings & scribbles