Life’s an ugly gift but a gift nonetheless.
And so I unravel this gift anyhow and with a smile on my face I thank Mother Nature who has presented it thus.
Bunch of old dusty things with holes in their bottoms.
“Here. Place your dreams in these,” she says.
As though she takes me to be some sort of fool.
And that’s just the point: I am life’s fool.
Existing only to become non-existent again.
All of who I am and what I am, by whereabouts and thought-abouts, my triumphs and failures.
Reduced to a mere figment of one’s limited imagination.
Dearest Mother Nature’s practical joke from her to me: “Life”
With nothing to gain but everything to lose.