What scares me the most is that I might be letting my days and nights flow by too fast, that maybe there really is something I’m supposed to be paying attention to?
Maybe there’s a plan or purpose that I knew as a child but over the years I lost contact with it. Maybe I discarded it along with my other toys and now I can’t even picture what it might have looked like or where to find it.
As I wonder about this notion of purpose from my observation bench on Church Street I gaze out toward the people walking past and I can’t help but think that if there is something we’re supposed to be doing, something other than strolling around looking nervous and dopy, it doesn’t seem like the message was delivered very well. By the look of the costumes people are wearing it appears we must be fixated on a sort of stance toward Halloween.
Doesn’t it seem odd to you, too, that we are alive without anything particular to do? I mean what the heck is this all about? It doesn’t seem right that we should have to worry so much on how to keep ourselves occupied. Distractions shouldn’t be the whole theme to being alive.
There were two billion people on this planet when I was born are now we’re up to seven billion. Pretty soon it will be twenty billion and the stories we tell ourselves of why we happen to be alive will be far different than today. I wonder how the after-life story will hold up. Will the notion of eternity, and judgment, still be talked about?
What if we live this nervous life to the bitter end only to discover that there is no end. Now, isn’t all this nervousness a bit silly, I mean what were we worried about, we have all the time we can stand.
I suppose what scares me the most is that I don’t understand a fucking thing about how this all came about and where it’s going. If it’s an accident its one hell of a glorious accident and if it’s not an accident then we’re all a bunch of inept nincompoops for not figuring it out.