(no subject)
"I often wonder what there is beyond twenty. What will the next fifty or so years bring me? More of the mundane and little inspiration, I'm guessing. How does one lead a meaningful life, exactly? Must they wed their soul mate or add an invaluable contribution to the arts or build a corporate empire? Or can we be content with just giving out or piece to the puzzle; our soul showing something to someone who has never seen it before, or never knew they wanted to. Why is there always an ulterior motive, can't a cigar really just be a cigar? I'm still searching for the minotaur who keeps eating my heart from the inside. I must kill him and drag his carcass to the gates of nirvana to prove that I, alone, destroyed my secular being and transcended. Because what's an apotheosis if you don't have the papers to prove it? Hopefully irony, the cruel bitch that she is, won't replace my copper swirl of spirituality with a cancerous charred sinkhole. Think I'll ever find the "right" girl? Ah, who knows, maybe I'm gay."