The Sad Tale of Self Pity

I look at my life and talk about my life and it is all just looking from my view, my doubts, my hopes. How do I fit as a puzzle jig into the whole? How self-centered I think. How useless such things. The search for meaning and purpose overwhelming. Where is this all going? Occasionally a glimpse of the answer to all such questions, a complete and total answer as if in a dream, which then quickly dissolves, vapors and smoke.

Food, cigarettes or coffee or other imbibements. All oral as yet another toroid ceaselessly prowls the universe to stuff energy into it’s mouth, digest and move. Humanity is no different from all the other life forms on this planet, vicious thirsting for the next. Vines, toroid’s, moles and veins. Always the next. Sometimes I see people complain about the hole in man’s soul. It’s the same hole in everything! Even the universe has its black holes!

I am filling the hole always and everywhere. I take pictures, little slices of the infinite. I write music, compose symphonies and string quartets. Still it is not enough. This need to express, like a blathering grandmother whose mouth never ceases chattering. Like those with opinions, also wrong. Blathering opinions as purpose and meaning? Who can say where these activities journey? The marriage of destruction and creation walking hand in hand like hopeful newlyweds dwells in everything like those vast gaping holes one finds throughout the universe.

A difference? Proteins like embedded vines, endlessly folded float not only within but without. At the center of the b12 vitamin is a lonely cobalt atom which makes the whole. Without it, the molecule has no meaning.

Perhaps I too am cobalt. Maybe that is my purpose. A lonely cobalt atom with a self endowed meaning, enmeshed within its carriage of more abundant atoms. Ahh to wish upon specialness. I am blue, bright and filled with overflowing cheerfulness.


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