What on Earth is meant when it is said: “In the scheme of things?”
What scheme is this, and who is the schemer and whose scheme is it? Is there a scheme? Where does it lurk? What is the point of a scheme, or does it have a point, or does it really matter one way or another anyway.
Can Life be planned without a plan? Can a plan be a knock-off? Can a plan be knocked off the tracks never to be found again, and does it matter?
Who can say that Life is not innocent and of its own choosing?
Exactly where does anything exist anyway? Does Life exist, or is Life a trick of one kind or another perpetuated, and it’s not funny.
Can Life be pure? What would Pure Life be like? Does Life seem to be other than it appears? What makes Life appear to appear anyway, and how can it be that Life also disappears? Life is, or it is not, or maybe it doesn’t matter. Dreams come and go, and wherein lies significance of anything anyway?
I say that Life is an illusion in any case, so what does it matter and why must you identify with that which is illusive? You can’t hold a Good Life down, yet wherein is it written that a Life is good or not good? Who says so? Is this a good idea or not?
What about all the plusses and minuses? Where do they come from, and how do they get here? Does Life configure itself, or is Life configured? How does Life go about it whatever it is it does? Is there a secret to Life, and, if so, when is the secret to Life found?
Where is the end to questions?
Will just any answer do, or must answers be specific to specific questions in a special order? What is this hullabaloo about anyway, and who says so at dawn or dusk? What is speculated, and who speculates? Who first discovered questions?
What is the point of questions and the point of answers? Answers could just as well be thrown up in the air, and fall where they may.
Everyday Life finds itself out. It comes to the visible surface, yet what does this surface have to do with anything that matters an inch?
Whither goest thou and what for? You might just as well sit around and think Life into existence. Why can’t Life stay still and perfect itself instead of fooling around and going hither and thither? Let’s write a different prescription. One way or another, Life will turn out, and what then? What can be done about it?
Can the purpose of Life change, and when, and how, and what does Life portray when all is said and done or not done at all?
Who puts the maps together, and who says Yes and who says No, and where do the twain meet?
Who meets Life and who sets Life down for a heart-to-heart? Who finds out, and who doesn’t find out, and what difference does it make? Is Life on or not?
Life never comes to an end. When does Life complete its tour as far as you can see? Do you see? Who sees, and who can sum Life up?
You would like some answers. You may not want to travel the world for answers, yet what choice do you have? Whether the Earth is flat or round, you could be thrown off course regardless and never land.
Is Life Topsy-Turvy, yes or no? What is right-side-up, if anything? When did the bells ring, or did they, or did you just not hear them? Is it possible that the bells never went off, and you are still waiting to hear them?
Something could be missing if you could only know what it is.
Or nothing is missing, and you are distracted.