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  • Writer's pictureCaren

explains nothing


at times it occurs to me, terrifyingly, how small my life is. if i were to add up its parts, with the things i do and why i do them, then i'd have a long column of figures whose sum is much less than what i always thought it would/could/should be.

there is no use in denying the virtues of a quiet, peaceful life. but i find myself more and more making my choices based only on whim and preference, so that my existence reaches about the same level of significance as that of a squirrel. tell me: is that how it should be? i’m close to saying maybe. if Eden had never ended, wouldn’t we be just like those squirrels, living in harmony with each other and the world, operating with the trees and clouds and the rest of the food chain, like a perfect sunlit organism? there would be no striving, no push, no fury. am i wrong? i could be. maybe Eden isn’t like that at all. and is it even worthwhile to consider these things, seeing as we are not there now? if i knew how it should be, maybe i could live better. from the little I do know, it’s all a big paradoxical puzzle. it seems like i can’t do any more until i figure it out, but i will only figure it out as i keep moving on.


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