live and die on this day

i feel so deeply the absolute terror and wonder of life and death.

what is this world, that we are given such acute consciousness, only to be left without meaning, purpose, guidance?

we can feel the highs and lows of our great species,

but no discernible story in it all.

our loves, our pains, our projects: are they for anything? anything at fucking all?

men on every street,

in every pulpit,

through every book,

selling us cheap meaning to this sad, short, wonderful life.

can we not instead together more honestly grieve our sorry state,

lost,

so terribly lost,

in the absurd?

god is silent.

one is spared from death, only to die soon thereafter.

everything,

every hope, every pretense, every belief, every part of me,

has been violently stripped away.

i have nothing. i am nothing. i can only love.

ben hevel, 09.05.25