What a strange world.
Humans dying.
Humans playing.
Bees playing as well.
Humans being born.
A child laughing.
An old man crying.
Does the bumble bee feel sorrow when it does die?
What is it so special about play that makes us smile inside the void of existence? Meaningless things. In a meaningless world. Indicating that there is something meaningful. But somehow far away from where we look.
Dad!
The ball!
Poetic Philosophy 