cuatro

Finding meaning in life is a skill and some truly lack it. Some joust with God in a perennial game of cat and mouse, they're almost as bad as the Falwells with quarintined faith and barbed-wire fences. People picket against homosexuality for being unatural while drivers honk to agree in manufactured cars. On the bus are the Freewilling Fatalist Oxymorons still waiting for their soulmate to show, and Tom Cruise- sorry don't get me started. I'm just looking at the circus thinking, "Where the fuck did your minds go?"

We have the "Death is only the Middle" club and the "Reincarnation Nation", the "Dude, Where's my Souls" and that wierd contortionist lady who's just "Aligning my Chakra!". Some flung off their possessions because a book said "fuck desire", now they wonder why the want it all back. And at the end of the day there is no such thing as atoms in a flower.

We impose ourselves on nature in hopes it will bend and give us meaning. But where is our lesson in uncertainty? There is certainty about God, certainty about life after death, as if we forgot about the sheer willfulness behind our most valued beliefs, tailor fit to our most unfavorable dimensions. Our hubris is in thinking that for every question there is an answer simple enough to be understood.

Our beliefs mean more than the very things that make us happy; "What is" has come to mean more than what works. Yet there is love, friendship, lust, booze, family, sex, recognition, touch - it all works, it is down here, but they keep looking at the sky, as if what were out there was ever for the choosing.