One Man’s Inquiry, Raised:
“If humanity’s the patient, Life the Doctor, and us individually, just the specimens, then how come we get the bill?”
One Man’s Rhyme:
The bridge goes up,
The bridge goes down
And still we’re stuck
In this lousy town.
Freed of collective desires, at first the mind feels – NAKED – liable to drowning.
If you do not believe that man enjoys being what he is, then how do you explain the many retail sore shops, and support services on every corner?
Songs Without Artists – Questions Without End:
Why would anyone try specifically to appear to be intelligent who is not dumb?