Our ironic lives are instructed--they are not natural.
It's not natural for one to speak ironically, for example about committing suicide while doing everything one can to achieve immortality--that is normalized.
It's normalized to love hating--how do you like that? I don't. Doesn't cure my own shortcomings.
More and more, irony seems an insidious plant, covertly placed in our collective language, a tool to control us by confusing the very structures of thought.
Still, the foundations are sound: the essence of a child is to discover and love fearlessly. Some solace there.
Yet what a comedy to confuse, be confused and figure it all out in a snap. Endlessly entertaining to trick and be tricked.
Cleverness is to split and take away. And now I'm stuck ending this entry with a riddle: how many times can you take half of half until you're left with nothing?