The Opponent in the Ring, “Meaning, Purpose.”

here i am again, contemplating most things. i’ve been lately, just beating the idea into the ground of what the purpose of life is. what is the real meaning? i almost, at times, picture a boxing ring with me in it; my opponent named “meaning, purpose.” knowing that i would win the match, but it would be pretty damn close. then, at the end, i would be drenched in sweat, in tears, with my hands on “meaning, purpose.” yelling “who are you! tell me what this is all about! i need answers!”

on another hand, i relate with an artist, a singer, a musician. most times, we create our own answers with the questions out there through stories, hypotheticals, dreams. our glass always half full, and head stuck in the clouds; we all try to escape to these little dream worlds or realities. when sometimes, we don’t fully understand ourselves as to why.

i feel as that “idea,” will always be with me. i have to drag it around in a heavy backpack; regardless, of if i want to or not. kind of like, if that doesn’t make sense, a personality. i really can’t change my own personality can i.

toning it back a bit here, unto another contemplation. i don’t feel attached to material gains, societal gain, social status, or supposed self-worth in ‘things.’ now what i do feel attached to, is family, friends, my wife, my dog, and last but not least; there has to be more out there than what meets the eye. this was no accident, oh no.