the future is a mirage made up of fanciful notions.
Bad things will happen; good things will happen.
And when the bad things have happened,
we will carve them out of stone,
add them to the collection,
and carry them with us wherever we may go;
the more awkward, the better.
Smash up these little works of art.
Melt them down in the fire of your anger.
It is not our job to create the universe;
our job is to experience it,
finally realising, in the moment of death,
that what’s inside our fragile heads
is a metaphor for the whole of the cosmos,
simultaneously real and figurative.