Is it any comfort to know that all of us Sapiens of the genus Homo share this feeling of lostness to various degrees? Perhaps not, since each life comprises a solitary, eclectic search for value that orbits (for unknown reasons) around a greater (and even more unknowable) mystery of the unknown. And yet, when one considers it, who TRULY understands what life is all about has not YET been born. Meanwhile, we must just keep on keeping on and remain hopeful, for when hope finally does die, so does life itself. I enjoyed this write of yours as another who leads a life of quiet desperation. Mahalo nui loa.
Kalikiano
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
Kalikiano
Be safe,
Karen