One way of looking at things in Daydreaming on the Porch

I have been asking why I’m here most of my life. If there’s a purpose, I don’t care anymore. I’m 74. I’m on my way out. Let the young people learn the hard way, like I did. No one ever told me anything.

Frank Donofrio
Barber

Isn’t it strange how at certain times of the day, and in certain moods, just about anything you read or ponder makes sense? At least for awhile, or until your mood shifts and you are back to thinking less clearly, which is how we get ourselves into a lot of trouble. But when someone makes sense and challenges our assumptions, there comes a point in life where we don’t need to feel threatened by this. We accept it for what it is. Aging, for instance, does have a purpose. It’s called acquiescence, because we can never go back and change anything.

It’s 3:30 am and I’m still in a strange mood. Maybe I’ve been reading too much news. And there’s no one to say “Goodnight to,” so I will continue to stay up longer like I always do.