So life, what is it? I have to presume it’s different for everyone. Obviously the basics are the same, food, water and dare I say, work! But that is not life, they are just the things of life, things you do. Or is that life? It’s seems to be a mystery and yet is also very known. When someone thinks of life, I guess it’s coloured by ‘their’ life, rather than life itself. Is life the animating power that effervesces you? Rather than your history?
I only ask, as like many things, I have no real idea what it is. Like, what are we supposed to be doing? What’s humanities plan for the future? More war, more psychopathic official telling people how to live? Maybe it doesn’t matter, it is what it is. And yet, for some reason that leaves me wanting. Wanting for what, I don’t know. I can wait patiently for a train for ever, it’s just the way I am. Until eventually I shall get up and move to where there are no trains, therefore I don’t have to wait.
I long to see the world but I am unable. Because the world is not free, and of course, we are not free. Maybe that is the frustration in me. That the things I need are not available to me. The things I would use to quantify what I would say is life. Life to me should be about living, and yet many of us are not living. We are just doing the normal boring day to day stuff. People who go off on long travels find coming home so hard, for this very reason. That living like we do is actually very dull. The same with soldiers back from duty, they find everyday life dull.
I guess it’s too late to join up, so that one’s out. I shall just have to find a way to have a life that is spontaneous, fun and ever changing. Maybe it’s not possible. The humdrum gates of normality have clanged shut on humanity, as we struggle to identify the problem which is one that has been self imposed. That of conformity, humdrumness, with no adrenaline needed to get through the day. It could be just me, but that seems so fucking boring.