Prologue

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As a child I remembered this poem:

Human's lives are on a never ending cycle.

We are born.

We are taught.

We are independent.

Then we die,

and hopefully along the way somewhere,

we are taught the mysterious secretive secrets of love.

But where is the meaning to it?

What is the meaning of life?

What is the meaning of life as an individual?

What is our meaning of life as the human race?

Questions like that can drive a person crazy.

Your own personal Question Asylum.

So What do we do to distract ourselves from the pending questions of insanity?

It's simple really.

We are born.

We are taught.

We are independent.

Then we die,

and hopefully along the way somewhere,

we are taught the mysterious secretive secrets of love.

But, if you are lucky,

as you take your last breath,

you are revealed the meaning to your choices.

You are revealed the meaning to your life.

But...

I warn you,

Until you take your last breath,

Do not enter the Question Asylum.

My mother used to read me this poem. It gave me the outline of life and the rules. I never understood it until now, until I entered it. My life became the poem or the poem became me. Either way it goes, I am grateful.


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