The things you take for granted didn’t come free. Somebody, somewhere probably had to do something to make the things. They might not have enjoyed it. Perhaps they did, in which case they were lucky. And so were you.

In my heart of hearts, I wonder why I have so many hearts

Unbeknownest to many or most, the things that are most unknown are more prevalent than is often assumed. The prevalence of the unknown is probably of a greater prevalence than the prevalence of the known. It might not be, but how could you ever know?

All things need a place to grow. Even things that are fully grown. Without a place to grow, they will shrink in on themselves and collapse like a limp balloon. No pop or bang, just an emptying sigh.

What does it all mean?

Who gives a fuck