I haven't been able to sleep well, so I guess writing poorly is a rational continuance...
If the answer to life, the universe and everything were indeed 42, then all of our work, all of our love wouldn't be for any ultimate goal, but for the moments we shared with each other.
Every push and shove, our scientific achievements, every victory in war or politics; for no greater good than our own tranquillity, commodity or enjoyment.
There were always two ways to react to this line of thinking: either severe depression, loss of direction, even nausea; or ecstatic freedom and an alleviating sense of relief in knowing that doing your best and helping those around you is literally as good as it gets.
In choosing the latter, you would think there are less ways to go wrong... Just muster up as much love as possible, prepare the other cheek and go around listening to people, give them a helping hand and a shoulder to lean on.
This my friends, is indeed hard enough. Enough so that rumours live still today about the man who best achieved this feat being the son of a supreme being who was unfortunately later nailed to a tree for sharing this...
So some of us, who have a harder time being there, smiling, giving the other cheek, or simply have less comfortable shoulders, we have looked for other ways to share ourselves with others; and the ones we love, or wish loved us.
And we get there... We remember each other for very many different things...
We pick the things we're good at, and that is what we share... I'll try too, being a better self, to be loved.
To see the dawn, like today's, in the lives of whom we cherish most. To give them nice days and memories, and hope.
I wish I could never falter in sharing the dawn...