MONOPOLE

To what end will my existence find? To what extent and on what grounds will my existence thrive? These questions have no answers because life has no meaning, purpose, or resolution. It is swept away by inconsequence just as bubbles rising to water’s surface burst. There is no knowing that ever they had been nor any kind of writing down that would provide the experience with perspective. #poem #poetry #bubbles #existence #existential #hopelesslyhopeful

With reason enough, I’ve been thinking over writing more and more…as of late. Beyond my current state of endeavors and affairs, I guess the best I can do to attempt to ascertain from whence these thoughts derive (as it were) is to attribute them, at least in part, to my recent encounters with Salinger’s Seymour an Introduction and Hemingway’s On Writing. I guess the best one can do is to wrap oneself in it as much as if it were the only thing preventing an endless fall into t