I know I haven’t called, and I don’t write you much, but I think of you all the time. I am utterly fascinated by the things you have provided, and the pains you have caused.
I try to find meaning in all that you do, for myself mostly, but for others too, and I think my conclusions are faulty. I make up stories based on unprovable theories, I credit you with one thing, but not the next, I even go so far as to worship you at times. I only do that last bit at my most miserable times, but I think you understand.
Without you, I would not exist. Without you, I would not be who I am today. Without you, nothing would matter. So, I Love you, Life. Even when you’re mean, I love you. I do not care about the greatest this, or the least greatest that. All that mottled verbiage is garbage. If there is only one, logic dictates that it must be the absolute. There cannot be three greatest things that are not the same. Greatest implies an absolute, so we mortals tend to think that the greatest is you. If there is another after you, than you are not the greatest, you are simply one of many.
Enough of the bad syllogisms. I meant to write this note to you, Life. I get so caught up in agreeing or disagreeing with my brothers and sisters that I often ignore you. At least for this moment, I want you to know that I am only thinking of you.
I love you, Life.
ps. call me sometime, we should take in a show or something. take care…