What is there to live for?

What is there to live for?

Never enough, we always want more.

True satisfaction… so hard to come by.

Unsettled in the moment, time to get high.

Run from our own mind,

Into some other kind;

Feeling alone,

With much to atone.

The burden is a beast,

I say fuck it, let’s feast;

Pretend all is well,

At least we’re not in Dante’s hell.

This is my lot,

And it’s my choice to rot;

The blame is on me,

Owning up to this is key.

I want to get better.

I envision a letter,

From my future spirit,

In which I really hear it:

You must change your life!

Remove your woe with my metaphysical knife,

And keep me in your heart,

Go: make good art,

Stay in the right range,

And believe you can change,

Because you can and you will,

Now start striding up that hill,

If it hurts, well, good.

Remember: just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.

Prudence and patience,

Like many of your saints

Who conquered and contemplated,

Drank water, found God, smoothly and sated.

They faced hardship no doubt.

Sad, angered, wanted to shout:

Fuck this and fuck that,

Moped around and then sat,

On their ass,

With a whole lot of cynical sass,

Asked: what is there to live for?

At its core life is but a chore.

But these saints didn’t give up.

Half full was their cup.

And in time nature rights its wrongs,

Now find the harmony and dance to its songs;

Of the seasons, cycles, and rhythms of play.

Fix this, fix that, relax: everything is okay.

Go, present self, peace is within you.

The point of learning is to do.

Now bend your knees and get low,

Flourish in the flow.