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Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-colour boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-colour boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-colour box, though I've got a few missing. It's ok though, because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colours of life, of feeling, of articulation.. so when I meet someone who's an 8-color type.. I'm like, hey mate magenta! and he's like, oh, you mean purple! and he goes off on his purple thing, and I'm like, no - I want magenta!
Only to the extent that someone is living out this self transcendence of human existence, is he truly human or does he become his true self. He becomes so, not by concerning himself with his self's actualization, but by forgetting himself and giving himself, overlooking himself and focusing outward.
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