Life

Life.

I was born at a very young age, though I have spent a lifetime getting over it. Well. Not yet.

Life is a circumstantial situation beyond my control. At least at the entry level.

I am a victim of circumstances beyond my control and to which I gave no consent. I never asked to be here, and I will leave any time I damn well please. No immediate plans to that end, but just making a point.

Speaking of points, life is a broken pencil. No point to it, but accompanied by an eraser to remind us of our errors.

A natural effect of a natural effect is all that I am, and that is all I ever will be.

Existence is a once in a lifetime experience. An annual trip around the mass which is the center of the known universe. A continuous quest for comfort. No rule book supplied, though several have been written. No clear point to the experience, though plenty of theories have been conjectured.

Life supplies us with a natural aversion to suffering and a nagging sense of right and wrong which is continuously convoluted and confused with and by cultural conditioning and subjective standards.

Life is love, laughter, and lunacy. Then 15 minutes of fame. Then the flower garden.

Like two physicians making love, life is a paradox.

Such is life.

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Every Dog Has Its Day

Dogs eat, drink, breathe, recirculate, procreate, seek pleasure, exhibit a natural aversion to suffering, decay, and eventually die.

Humans eat, drink, breathe, recirculate, procreate, seek pleasure, exhibit a natural aversion to suffering, decay, and eventually die.

The Struggle Inherent to the Human Condition

The human condition is a struggle from birth till death.

I cannot imagine a single moment of life that is exempt from the struggle.

From the outset we struggle to overcome the elements and our environment.

The basis for the struggle seems to be a natural aversion to discomfort.

Thus the struggle inherent to the human condition is an effort to be comfortable in spite of the elements and within our environment.

The struggle inherent to the human condition is thus the struggle inherent to all known sentient beings.

Hence the baby cries when cold.

Hence the dog seeks shade on a hot summer day.

Hence we eat when hungry, and drink when thirsty.

The human condition is indeed a never ending struggle.

Ours is a collective condition; thus ours is a collective struggle.

Hence, we can struggle TOGETHER to overcome the elements and our environment.

Or, we can struggle AGAINST EACH OTHER to overcome the elements and our environment.

Ours is a collective condition; thus ours is a collective struggle.

And the struggle never ends.

And the suffering never ceases.

A Theory on the Meaning of Life

It seems to me that inquiring as to the meaning of life seems to miss the point of the experience.

When you sit out and enjoy a pleasant morning, must you attach a meaning to the morning in order enjoy the experience?

When you take a walk in the woods,must you attach a meaning to the trees in order to enjoy the experience?

When you enjoy the company of friends or family, must you attach a meaning to the people in order to enjoy the experience?

I am inclined to question whether there is any meaning as such to life.  I am further inclined to question the relevance of the matter.

The simple joys of life do not require a meaning in order for the experience to be worthwhile.

Life and Death

It seems to me that life and death is as good as it gets.

The appeal of heaven is to live among friends without enduring any pain and with no fears of going to hell.  Well, the best evidence that nature has to offer indicates that life is all that there is, so the joy of living among friends in this life is for all practical purposes heaven.

Now the dread of hell is suffering without an end to the process.  Life is certainly not hell, for whatever sufferings this life may entail will end at death.  In that regard, death itself holds a similar appeal to heaven in that there is no more pain to endure.

And so it seems to me that life and death is as good as it gets.

When I Die

When I die, Please don’t cry,  Unless that makes you feel better.

When I die, I’ll simply be gone,  Regardless of the weather.

When I die, feed my cats,  Because that’s how I start each morning.

When I die, I sincerely hope,  Brief will be your mourning…..

May I die with a pen in my hand,

Or my fingers typing.

With a smile on my face,

And my mind a rhymin’……