Each morning I awake thirsty, dry, parched
The potential for meaningful life evaporates with dreams, Consciousness faced only with the drudgery of embodiment. What can nourish this dead flesh alive? There is no meaning, although fancy acolytes in unusual garb preaching exotic philosophy give away the secrets to total happiness and immortality. The purpose of life is to erect structures of meaning… Continue reading Each morning I awake thirsty, dry, parched