I can’t figure it out.

I’m 33 years into my short existence and I keep thinking at some point that I will have life figured out to some degree. It doesn’t work like that – or so it seems. That is not to say that I have not found peace and joy in the simplicity of my life as it is now, rather that I would like some type of explanation. There is just so much to dissect on a daily basis that the answers fade into more questions before there is ever any true clarity.

I have an eternal sense of exploration buried within me, and while I enjoy the terrestrial voyages it is the internal voyages of the mind and human persona that truly entice my curiosity. I don’t lose sleep when pondering the questions of the mush of flesh between my ears but I sure do give it some quality time when I am with it. It is like finding a perfect loop gif while listening to a heavy organ clad instrumental glazing over electronic beats of stadium anthem intensity, it can be so symbiotic and entrancing. The mystery of it’s nature is an object of my affection.

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