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!
Meaningless death.
Meaningful death.
The greatest assumption of them all: Meaning itself.
Look at yourself in the mirror crying…
And the abyss will go away…
Stop crying…
And from your tears…
A new river will start flowing the next day…
We try to be perfect in our definitions. We refine them over and over again. We must succeed. To understand the cosmos. And yet we miss the elephant in the room.
In a world full of definitions we invent…
Who are we?
(Who defines me?)
Search for the only one thing that does not need a definition.
Find it.
And when you do, cherish it.
Keep it.
And leave it there to be.
Without giving it a name…
I am nobody! Who are you?!
Poetic Philosophy 