She sat at the desk, pondering her existence. With all the heartfelt emotion and passion of an eighteen year old out to discover herself, she mentally traced the boundaries in her life. Perhaps, if she traced over them enough times, they would eventually wear out. What place had logic in a process like this?

Probably somewhere between the monkeys and the birds. All those archaeologists and paleontologists and scientists and -ists making the connection twixt humans and animals. Just a matter of deciding which animals. Like it mattered. Perhaps, if they chose a mystical and majestic creature, the God fearing souls would have nothing to protest against.

Life came down to big perhaps-es. Lotsa them, too. Perhaps God made the universe. Perhaps the cake was too old to eat. Perhaps the world ended tomorrow. Perhaps . . . she was high and this was not her speaking. It sounded like the easy over thoughts of a melodramatic pothead, but she was pretty sure she never took drugs.

Perhaps she was just dreaming. Thinking about existence did that to you. Put you to sleep.

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One thought on “

  1. i r confuzzeled
    he sat staring blankly at the jumble of words wondering what on earth she could have meant. but it was like that for him most of his days. he never would get to understand the rambles and wanderings of others in their logs or journals.
    he read a journal entry one day that made sense to him, but since nothing ever made sense to him he second guessed himself until he was doubting the doubts of his own seconds guesses. what a vortex his head was in.
    maybe he just never woke up to be able to read such writings. it happens sometimes. you think you’re awake but you just never woke up to begin with.

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