And so it went.
clouds parted and joined
suns set and rose
life was ignited
Is there a constant?
is there a point in waiting
for the homeostatic curve
to come back around?
to wait so long
and worry for so long
and suffer for so very long
Just so we can experience that brief moment of bliss?
When everything is exactly “as it should be”
and we can just be?
life isn’t easy.
but it’s not difficult, either.
We can’t find any answers if we don’t have
the right question.
The question being why, how, for what purpose
are we here?
The question being are we wasting our time
if we’re not trying to find it?
The question being how much of this will work itself out
and how much is impossible?
The question being
what the fuck is the question, anyways?
Life is not
supposed to be
Perfection itself is an unattainable goal
preserved only by our own obsession with answers.
That answer. That question. And therefore,
what we choose to call our life.
We can only fail
if we choose to let that go.