The True Meaning of Life
I’m tired
Alliances with the pagan gods of your forebears brought you to a bridge between man and the rest of the world, where still waters run from left to right, and rushing waters wind away into the sunset.
Occasional disturbances to the left’s silver surface and the distant passing cars are the only sign of an interruption to your being the last person on earth, long after the height of us came and went, long after the ashes spread far and hid little.
And where one expects nothing at all, there is more than you could ever be.
And I’m not sure if I’m just high sitting on this literal bridge, or if there’s some meaning to the mystery of life to be gained from analyzing what I just pulled directly out of my ass, but I can tell one thing from reconnecting with nature after the last decade of trauma: god damn it I hate you people.
