My Wonderment On Universe and Karma

Ever noticed how everything in your life can be going great and then bam! it all changes in a few hours, or something (the contradicting something refers to hours, not that your life doesnt change, or anything). Well its been happening to me often lately, one would say. I might say I have been destined to have a bad week, or something. Someone might say shit happens. Whether youre having a bad week or drop a vase and have a bad moment, you may be in the web of woven uncanny karma. The case is that you and I and all of us are destined to our karma, aeons before material conception. When all is created, beyond everything and anything and ages ago so hard to imagine one must only imagine themselves imagining the very breadth of it all, being created that is. Think about the atoms (fresh out of the cradle of what is creation) bouncing off one another at speeds and temperature and well, lots of neat things, all just happening. And later the universe is formed, somehow, whatever. I have only speculations, but then again I am a writer and for me sound speculations kinda crawl back into the rigid proverbial husk they're born from and mold their primal liquids themselves into bland cabal for scenario: plots. So my theories on creation of the universe are now just plots, but maybe after some years in some university I could write a paper and people would read it. Until then I dream. Of the people reading my papers part, I mean. But here you are, and another example of karma is made. You were destined to turn to this page, at whatever moment, wherever in existence it is and all those other really keen vague descriptions Im using, and read this sentence.
I dont know why, I'm just getting by, writing whatever I call it my story on high! But karma and the creation of physical existence are very one in the other with one another. Hand in hand. Damn my hand hurts. Something of a ritual when seen at a distance (when happening, not me typing) it now pangs me to carry it like a lock passing through my hand. Perhaps it was karma. When the universe is created the atoms bounce off one another and karma is the intelligence that sees inexpressibly indescribable distances into the future, seeing what each and every last one of those atoms is doing. It then sees from it planets, suns, sand, people, cats, dogs, authors, fingers and even the atoms in our brain. It knows already what we will be doing at every precise moment because it has predicted from all the atoms bouncing off one another in space like pool balls that sometimes stick together and make such things as helium, carbon and hydrogen. Well anyway with some great or really big (Im out of descriptions) physics equation you could see all the atoms bouncing off one another and with (having the vastness of fresh out of the primordial oven) space as your canvas you too could see where every atom is and where every other atom attaches to it and makes, well, whatever. Throw in time and you could just look into the future or the past with your equation. That big freaking equation. So anyway karma (a force without eyes mind you) sees that you will be good or bad and sends somehow what feels like bad luck or a shifty week. Seven years bad luck? Well, I'm optimistic the week will end. I was destined when some conscience was pregnant with the molecule of entire substantiality in its imagination as were you, and all of everyone, and us both and each, to be contrived.
...Or something like that.
The act of living more often than not finds itself to be relying upon the conducts or not-conducts of the non-living. Sunlight is a certain way and looks as it does, and we perceive it in miscellaneous certain ways. We the living rely upon the mannerisms of the universe to fasten itself to the facets that allow us to persevere. We need calcium, carbon, oxygen and a crowd of other elements to be, or not. The cosmos makes forth this required equipment and we take them up. That operation of life although complicated and contrived among variables the size of everything is altogether easily understood. The window we gaze through in an endeavor to understand actuality is sodden rather by the ingredients that make living possible and render the window hapless inquisition. All sight sent through it is bent by reason of its very transmission (rationale for so comes from conception, or the manner of construction for the scrutiny) and so can never discern the meaning for existing. And may never will, as I have of course said can never. The fact that we are alive does not mean that we have a purpose, or even meaning. Significance is a whole other word in question. Life is the result of many cause and effects in the universe. We are one of these effects. The cause in altogether unknown, (sure, water and heat and microorganisms and all that folly tells us where it comes from but we aren't sure how those get started) and does not need meaning. We may look upon a rock and say it should not find itself in question: few rocks I know shout ''Why do I exist great cosmos, why! What is our meaning in this existence?'' but I know some humans who might, and go ahead and do. A pen falls off the table, which has no great meaning. We set something on a table, which has no greater meaning. Two rocks hit one another; this has no greater meaning. When two rocks hit one another and cause life to exist, that also has no greater meaning. Its just a reaction to a certain action. Is there a purpose? Purpose is another word. What happens after action may not have been intended whether it was pollution, sound, light, an explosion or giving unto the universe the existence of life.
This game I play within the arena of my conscience is propelling its own self insane. What a world that we live in, this air, where such things considered beauty might be found, such to classical music surely is. Clouds are very beautiful. One must stop and smell the clouds, figuratively, perhaps. Sunset, sunrise, pretty much the whole course of the sun. A full moon. Colors. All very groovy, indeed. The list goes on, but the point is the world is what we make it to be, the decision is very yours, as sad as that may turn out to be. It's hard to make the change over to this lens, but arrival is much earned. Anticipated and deserved, the grass in this yard is always greener. Look at your brain at a distance in the mirror and realize it's entirely in there. The dimensions of the brain, the skull even? I'm not entirely sure to be completely honest with you, but how much it maintains I can easily identify. Limitless proportions. That much is simple. Perhaps the reaches of the brain cling onto things about us in a room, floors, walls and ceilings for example. Little prods of mentality, grasping at the physical universe (like the skull, only larger) in some means that we have yet to even imagine yet. But now we have. Thank you Einstein, a cookbook from sir, Making Thoughts into Reality. But think about it, how much is in your brain at this precise moment? How many songs can you confidently sing to, dance to, conduct or play air-guitar alongside the greatest, how many novels of memory is that all alone? People's names and faces and where they live. Your favorite color and why, what is was once to be maybe. Life stories by word of mouth, personally catching tears or turning up the volume upon. Recall your memories of childhood, High School, this passed weekend, numbers you know by heart and why, today. Memories are boundless, and that's hardly one drive of the brain. Consider dreaming now, a huge whole other wall and occupation to which your very skull and brain give haven.
How much our dreams can be like living two lives granted often by shades of light. Driving a car is considerably complicated. How many movies do you know by heart? Realize that remembering with your heart is quite an accomplishment. How many jokes do you know? We all know much more dialogue than we think; perhaps even great things if were fond of love on Shakespeare. Or various other authors to the pages of our mind we are fond of. Plato, Socrates, Crichton, Poe, Fincher, Cameron, Dickens if you like him, Spielberg, all the Lees, all the -goh painter guys, and their ma and mo friends while were at it, sculptors and engineers you dont even need to know the name to admire and ultimately memorize, singers and pretty ladies. And all this memory is taken for granted in the limitless pages we write unaware as we walk warily in this whole world, the cosmos. Now if you noticed the alliteration think about for a few moments how many pages of other information you are most likely well informed on, taken for granted since days as early as pre-school. Those of you who do not know what alliteration means could easily ponder simply about what it could mean, and go-on-so, rather savvy. Now you should all at once be admiring or at least understanding I suppose, what you have read and are all (not at all considering time) heavily engrossed upon. Im cooking. You're feasting. But simply, we all wonder now, what are memories? How are they made in the brain and how do they come to exist. Does the meat of the mind shake or twist a bit to be able to zap out a red T-shirt on your seventh birthday instead of a blue one on the same day? Is it because of memories, something we take for granted and easily modified, that we are at the end of each undeniable moment happy? But by example all those memories are just one function of the brain. Mind you the concept of memories give ability to everything done after moments passed, which every moment unavoidably becomes.
So everything we have learned is in the past and relies upon the aptitude of memories to make this action able to be. But what I'm getting at here is that memories are just one thing the brain does, other things (while of course all other things rely on memory) are also on its general second by second schedule while existing. Sudden reactions to various things seem known, but not learned. Eating, drinking, sleeping, all things that we don't learn how to do but know to and how to do, sometimes well. Some animals are borne knowing how to swim, why is the human not even quite so fortunate? Still and all, we are caste into the flesh knowing a great deal of things that may otherwise be considered untaught, but memorized at any rate. Can one train the brain and thoughts so made to teach the mind to be more happy? Or enlightened. Maybe some people teach the brain to be angry, or good at something otherwise amoral. Keep in mind all serial killers are free thinkers. Most writers, I'm not altogether to sure about. But you could make yourself a free thinker if you wanted to, quite easily. Just remember that for one to be enlightened or even remotely so must first realize that enlightenment must never be attained for the self, but rather for all other sentient beings across this plane for their own greater good, from example and teachings. Free yourself not to free yourself, but rather so that you may ultimately free others. To get love, you must give love or happiness to make someone else happy so that they will want to make you happy, thats love. Its much how the clockwork of the universe works. Just remember this one important thing... everything.