What, I wonder, is the point? What is the ultimate, definitive point in being alive?
Perhaps consciousness is an end in itself. There’s no need to ask questions that don’t have answers - it’s a waste looking for specific, definable meaning in a sunset, an argument or a piece of abstract art.
Life is knowing what you want to make you feel good. Life is a series of moments all stretching out in front and behind us. Life is learning to love and be loved.
LATE FRAGMENT by Raymond Carver
And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.