It’s a beautiful circle, this round table of pain and defeat. We sit and eagerly partake of the phantom of happiness that deserts us cold and lonely every time. Yet despite the gut wrenching tab of empty dark despair, we have our fill and come back yet another day for more. “What a fine wine this lost morality is!” “Oh, but have you tasted from the exquisitely meaningless wonders of wealth?” We bother not to say what we all dare not even think. Is there more to life than the chasing of the summer breeze? Are we here for a purpose, a higher calling other than to satisfy our longing for more, more and yet even more? Oh, but Shhh! You’ll disturb the dinner party. The suaré so content to dwell in a meaningless existence of naught but what the imagination can conjure an explanation.
Jay Werner
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