I don’t want to meta- the world down to a jumble of signs and values and dynamics, but can it be helped? Maybe that is really all the world is. Maybe romance is just the template for a cascading reaction in my central nervous system. Maybe consciousness is just a recursive function in my body’s native operating software. Maybe I’m just a bug in the program.
Maybe God doesn’t play dice WITH the universe. Maybe he just uses dice to decide how to make the universe, like some sort of cosmic bingo caller filling in squares of an infinite board that only he has the capacity to enumerate. D42 is Alpha Centauri. D59 is our solar system. D7419663893521847047 is the black hole in the center of our galaxy, and Z0 is the end of the space-time continuum.
Maybe my journey towards complete and perfect understanding is really undertaken with the hope that the conclusion at the end of the journey will be the understanding that complete and perfect understanding is impossible, unattainable, or just unusable. Then the special creature that I hope I am can remain unknown. Better that than to find out that I am explainable, ordinary, known. Better that no one can know everything than the possibility that we can know with perfect certainty exactly what is around the next corner and around every corner afterward. Why continue the journey anymore if that were the case?