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.

Join the Conversation

  1. Cheer up!

    You are alive, and no matter how confusing and difficult that can (often) be, it is still the most precious thing, that can end too soon and when you least expect it. Do what you do, and enjoy it: it doesn’t matter at all if no-one else does. Walk in the woods in the rain, barefoot. Swim naked in a warm sea. Eat too much and drink too much. Laugh at stuff no-one else finds funny. Be yourself. Love yourself and feel no shame or embarrassment for what you do or say or think.

    Be happy. Stay safe.

  2. The meaning of life? Now there’s a thing…And purpose too, you say?
    We are here and what we do means nothing in scheme of things, it doesn’t have to mean anything to anyone else because they don’t – cannot – understand what it is or what it means because they are not you. What it means to you is your’s and yours alone dear friend. How to convince someone else of your meaning is a question without answer. Except for those who would proclaim themselves an expert in all there is to know about art and literature and music and all the rest. The ones that analyse are the ones that cannot do, this we know. Be a cobalt atom and be the only one, except you are never alone because you have what you have. Think of them and smile every day, be a happy self-pitying rascal, it’s the unhappy ones I can’t abide.


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