Summoning back the ghost days of foghorns to remember red blood spitting cross the capillary streets. Boats, motes, and river streams beheld by two across a big country, both in dream alone. Phone home! Thus spake the green man held by REESE’S PIECES and a lonely tome and therein a pendant for Jesus. Jesus!
Raison D’etre is a fun, snotty way to say ‘reason for being’. I think about it sometimes when feeling particularly melodramatic and French and hairy, the latter being a full-time affliction. I’m regularly in the process of examining or searching for my reason for being, and this inquiry typically leads me to broader considerations philosophically and metaphysically. I used psychedelics quite extensively in my youth and cultivated a bent toward what might be called ‘dopey’ thought. It typically has an undercurrent of fright and/or despair, and yet this little burning engine keeps making steam, and I’ve learned to trust in the process of eternal and looping inquiry. My Raison D’être yet stalks me at a distance, but it feels the gap closes by bit by bit each day.
One of my biggest mental hang-nails, if you would, is the most fundamental why. Why is anything anything? It starts there and blossoms out. For example, once this question is asked, it is a short neurological distance to, ‘where is the implicit meaning of language derived’ and better yet, as it comes to language, what is its final utility? These vocal fits we call words, sentences, diatribes, screams that give our lives so much pomp and vinegar, are they not just utterances of tricky ape? A few minutes with an ant farm will convince all but the ideologically possessed that our communication systems as humans are well-matched, and perhaps surpassed by that of an organism simple as an ant. We look down (ha ha) on these critters as they are greatly crushable, and to some of our presumable forefathers, edible via stick. Did those monkeys know their Raison D’être; do the ants? Bless all. <3
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