447. A Poem of Pointlessness (A Potential Conversation with Samuel Beckett in My Head)

A Poem of Pointlessness

I discovered I was
a Nihilist of sorts.
I didn't even know it!
Nihilism means
the point of existence is to
emphasize there is no point
of existence.
I mean, there is a point of existence,
and it's a bit beyond no point.
Granted my Ph.D. topic is
"What's the point?"
simply because there's a
widespread discrepancy between
what we know
and how we behave.
We live in chronic dynamics
of shifting paradoxes, hypocrisies,
revealing absurdity of human behavior.
But uh... otherwise...
I find lots of points of existence,
but perhaps saying
there's no point of existence
is a good baseline of assumptions
to start building more elaborate
points of existence,
eh?
Like hunger,
and the satisfaction of it.
So, to be Nihilist,
you must argue
the point that there is no point.
It's a process, not a purpose.
And that's how you find a point.
And then,
we go from there.