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We have one purpose. To breath the next breath. It is not to procreate nor protect. Our purpose is to live and let live. We are no different than the hive but for the fact we aspire collectively as the queen does. So we procreate and we love and we struggle and we elate and we despair. And for two thousand or so years this is what we have done. And to amazing effect. What I hold in my hand is the size of wafer a a cracker a I don't know - but it's small and hard to manage. And this device has more power than all of the computing power that it took to put a man in the moon. Now Mars in my lifetime I'm sure. <div>The question is what does it all mean? I am still here. The earth still trembles beneath me. I have fear and possibly disease. I have addiction and insecurity and I am compelled to record it. Why? To what end ? For what purpose? </div><div>It is beyond doubt that we are organisms that are one part of a great organism. The first organism. And where that conscious derived is the ultimate question. </div><div>All other questions are superfluous. Really- why worry about anything other than that. Why be for the purpose of returning to that being. Or whatever. If it's to flicker out and be gone than thank you consciousness. </div><div>Why this? Why love and be loved? Why hate and be hated? Why live and die? Why thin and think and think and think about what...? And think? And... Yes think. </div><div>That is what we do. We are the bee's without the queen. So we plan and provocate . We push and pull. We hurt and heal. Some of us are miraculously good and some incredibly bad and some just bees. </div><div>So what to do while we span this moment in whatever evolution we find ourselves in? </div><div>The answer is so clear but so hard to answer. </div><div>We just love. And we get confused by that. We're confused because we think love is a feeling. And feelings are things that ignite our thinking tool and that tool is nothing more than a machine. </div><div>So we feed the machine with information. That information is so skewed. It's what makes us think we are unique. But we aren't. </div><div>At least I'm not. I am flawed. I am a bee gone wild. Most of us are. Most of us just want it to be over. We don't come to that realization until we do. But I promise you it happens. Just stop. Please stop. </div><div><br></div><div>But we don't stop. We're programmed not to stop. We're programmed to think. And ao we think and imagine new and better ways to be what we are. Just bees thinking / which is disaster. So what to do?</div><div><br></div><div>I have an answer. Do nothing. But for one thing. Turn to the closest living thing and love it. That may be you. May be a plant. May be a cat or a dog or your husband. He may be horrible he may be that plant. But who cares? I don't. </div>