You know what. I would. You, reader, are currently witnessing my direct thought process, so excuse me if it isn't as eloquent as some of my other bits. Why why why do we express ourselves...Why is it something we need to do. Inspiration. Curiosity? Some would explain it away as part of the soul, that unexplainable weight that leaves us when we die. The soul...expression...needs...compulsions...art...masterpieces...beauty. Turmoil.
The universe always presents away for getting rid of the strongest creature of the world. For dinosaurs, it was partly a bloody meteor. Casual. Maybe more subtly, for humans, it's humans. But there is a reason we are at the top of the food chain. Intelligence, yes, but I think it's also this soul thing. The soul pushes us to do more than just to survive and recreate. It encourages us to write. To sing. Etc, etc. I'm going around in circles trying to explain the unexplainable. I guess this just adds to the long list of things we will never know, maybe not even after we pop our clogs and barefoot it into the light.
I fucking hate that list.
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