This story is about a boy and his search for the meaning of life
Born in the tropics, on an island far by
Surrounded by palm trees, and spiny cacti
His Norwegian mom, wanted to give him a troll
But for his birthday, he preferred a barbie doll
Sadly this freedom of choice didn't last long
As soon as papa told him, that it was wrong
This was his earliest, memory of rules
His first realisation, that humans are fools
Disappointed he was, from that day on
Rules everywhere, thus he became withdrawn
Yet unable to see them, they must be a lie
Their existence was invented, but he didn't know why
His mom saw in him the question, thank God she did
So she read him the Bible, when he was an 8 year-old kid
He contemplated finity, in total despond
And the opposite, that is the World and Beyond
He was shocked to learn, about cruelty and war
And it made him wonder, what we grow up for
Being hopeful and naïve, was light and clean
But people gave up, to become selfish and mean
This forlorn knowledge, had created a hierarchy
Between Jesus and those, who needed to be set free
He painfully had to admit, the difference that was there
While his heart urged back to before there was division
Before there was prayer
After a period of loss, he briefly thought he could play
Groundlessness spread, as he fucked all belief away
Opposites merged, being straight and gay
His youthful innocence wasted, rebellion against night and day
This existential suffering, became his excuse for sin
He confided in empty space, distrusting the skin
Words were of the body, nothingness never told
His mind sceptic and bitter, it quickly turned old
And being indisposed, he could no longer give
But he decided to find a rock, for he wanted to live
To learn the art of Philosophy, this was his fate
No longer alone, now that he could communicate
He was able to describe, both the circle and the line
The evolution of existence, that divided evil and benign
Plus the roundness of the earth, that brings us back and forth
An arrow pointing towards itself, therein lies its worth
Life is about the search, which itself is the core
That can only truly and beautifully, be said in metaphor
Thus the architect describes, a world already filled
And with his words, the many forms are build
Yet he questioned, was the real philosopher playing football
Did he return to the cave, to enjoy the puppet show after all
The only ever real question, which will never be surpassed
As we live to express, while reflecting the distance
Why does God want us so much, to prove his fuckin existence
Is it because otherwise, all else would unravel
Killing the seasons, the philosopher's travel
The boy has stopped for now, with trying to find out
And started living, without doubting what it's all about
Because whether it’s a question or an answer, changes from time to time
But he believes in the purpose, or else he wouldn't have made it rhyme
By Thor Schuitemaker
The Philosophy Takeaway 'The Meaning of Life' Issue 29
