I am realizing something. Seriousness--dead seriousness--is incredibly scary.
I mean, it actually exists.
Most of the time, I see the world as a pretty entertaining place. I like walking through sunny Denver days, singing to myself. I people watch, smiling at the way humans react with each other. I develop hysterical inside jokes with friends on a daily basis. I take excessively long coffee breaks.
I enjoy life, for a surprising majority of the time. I look at folks who are constantly worried and stressed, and think, God. Please. Chill out.
Maybe they should calm down a little bit. But life is, indeed, slightly more than coffee breaks. In fact, there's a whole hell of a lot going on here.
Recently, I've been trying to wrap my mind around this whole...existence thing.
That's not exactly something I'd advise. I mean, good luck in trying to fit the entire universe into a human mind.
There are so many shockingly important questions out there. What are we doing here? What is the purpose of life? Is there a God? What the hell does he want from us? What was he thinking, making...me? What am I supposed to do with this whole life thing?
The answer isn't exactly found in a cup of coffee.
My typical response to difficult situations is to ignore them--to shrug my shoulders and tell myself that it will all just work itself out eventually.
Here's the cryptic question : Will it?
