He mistook his dwindling days
For THE end of days
And who could blame him?
Death is a frightful mystery
Much easier to face it
If all you leave behind is damned, anyway
.
.
.
Maybe the original sin is a belief that one is not worthy
Jesus was heard to say "I have come to set you free"
But the listeners were hard of hearing; strained by centuries of religion and oppression and pain
Perhaps, with a bit of clarity, they might have heard
"You've been free the whole time"
.
.
.
If we cannot face the darkness
Will we ever love the light?
Would I accept crucifixion
If there was no resurrection?
Would I follow the example of Jesus
Without the reward of heaven?
.
.
.
And so, at last, we come to hope
What the fuck do we do with hope?
I suppose it's nice to imagine
Someone coming to fix it all
Lord knows I can't
You all seem to be struggling, too
I have noticed, however
It feels less shitty when we do the struggling together
And perhaps that's all there is to it
Pack animals in need of a pack
Learning to enjoy the lack
--
“In the beginning, God created the earth, and he looked upon it in His cosmic loneliness.
And God said, 'Let Us make living creatures out of mud, so the mud can see what We have done.' And God created every living creature that now moveth, and one was man. Mud as man alone could speak. God leaned close to mud as man sat up, looked around, and spoke. Man blinked.
'What is the purpose of all this?' he asked politely.
'Everything must have a purpose?' asked God.
'Certainly,' said man.
'Then I leave it to you to think of one for all this,' said God.
And He went away.”
― Kurt Vonnegut, Cat’s Cradle
