ephemereality; a series of loosely associated ramblings.

The flower that smiles to-day

Tomorrow dies;

All that we wish to stay Tempts and then flies.

What is the point of today? The knowledge of an impending end diminishes enjoyment. It looms, ominous, like a raincloud on a sunny day, like a guillotine waiting to fall.

Today will end. This week will end. The month, the year, the phases we go through. All will come to nought; all are transitive. In flux, without an anchor, without as much as driftwood to grasp. People often remark that change is the only constant in life. So I question the point. Why do we do what we do if nothing will remain the same? If there is no certainty, everything is just a bloody gamble, isn't it.

Life's the journey, not the destination.

I agree, to an extent. Walking is tiring. Driving is tiring. Travelling from one place to another is tiring. Have you ever taken a flight just for the shits and giggles? Without so much as a destination in mind? The journey's important, yes. But the destination is what gets you out the door. It's what sustains the journey. And when you reach it, where to next? Another destination, I'd assume. Or do you just rest on your laurels, content to have completed a journey?

To infinity and beyond

So we've reached our destination. Now, to suggest that life is one long endless journey where we are supposed to sniff the flowers at every step and admire the cool breeze along the way, that's not just preposterous, it's pointless. Count me out. I want to get somewhere and I sure as hell intend to stay there. What's the point of getting somewhere if you're not going to stay there? Somewhere you can call home, something to cling on to amidst a hurricane.

Nothing lasts forever, even cold November Rain.

What's the fucking point of anything if it's all gonna go away.