curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth

I don’t know where we came from or how we got to the point where we could wonder where we came from. I don’t know where we’re going but it seems clear we did not evolve for optimal longevity as a species. It’s our imaginations that will do us in, I think. We want so much, so heartbreakingly more than we can have. The thing right in front of us is never the right thing. What we possess is hardly enough to take the edge off our desire. We talk, therefore we deceive. We understand, therefore we misunderstand. I could think all night. I could talk all day. It’s not even our faults that are the worst thing about us. The disasters caused by love are the ones you never see coming.

after I finish
describing what I want…