Friday, January 19, 2024

When It Rains


This is it, isn't it? It's not really that there is no meaning to life. It's just that this is it. Of course I don't possess the vocabulary to describe it, but neither did Einstein, Buddha, Elizabeth Barrett Browning or Pythagoras. 

It's the end that we learn to dread. Few of us have the imagination to imagine whatever life is without us. Except for history majors, we're mostly arrogant enough to conclude that everything that came before us was just an opening act. 

Listen pal- I may be an insignificant speck on another insignificant speck in a vast cosmos, but I'm just as significant as any other speck on his own. Enjoy yourself. It's later than you think.



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