One could always ask oneself if there was a purpose to all of this. Then again almost Anyone would most certainly ask what exactly did the word "this" contain! Does it contain my activities on-line and especially this particularly unique novel attempt of working out of the boredom that is my current priority -which will remain a secret for reasonable purposes of anonymity- or does it contain just a wee bit more and its boundaries extend to the very edges of almost everything else that i do? -yes. it does imply that there is not much that i do with my time ;)-
But then one could always even question the desire to ask oneself of such a curious question. To what measure could the answer to such an imbeciline question really help anyone in doing something worthwhile with their lives? Let's think about it.
I ask myself, "what purpose -blah di da- ?"
I ponder, ".. .. .. .."
I blink and my lips curve slightly upwards. Why? Because i am sitting at the edge of a beautiful cliff -not very dangerous mind you! i would hate to have to leave my first blog ever at an abrupt middle and have to carry the disappointment of my future readers all through the fall onto the white foamy, green mossy, black, sharp rocks below- with almost nothing to do but to savour the blue of the sky and the vast ocean below; the taste of salt and the cool breeze ruffling through my hair; the soft colours from the setting sun's rays through the long distances in the atmosphere onto the clouds and off the sea to fall on my dark skin.. why ask of purposes to such sweet sweet presents? Why want an explanation to these soft soothing paintings? is it not just enough to sit here and breathe the miracles around us?
Well. It is.
Everything happens because of a reason. Understanding that reason will not make your life any better. Each comes with its own steep traps.
But tomorrow: when i will be out of the clutches of this hallucinating euphoric narcotic running through my veins i will have to ask myself, "what the hell".
"what the hell"
