Bullshit

I hope that there’s some meaning somewhere about this place;

I hope that there’s some value in each barrier I face.

But sometime I just sit back and wonder “Why, Oh why?”

“There must be more about this place than live and breathe and die.”

“Why is there so much bullshit piled over every gem?”

“Why must we wade through all that shit to get a glimpse of them?”

But, really, when I think it through, it’s good fertiliser too;

So maybe there’s deep meaning behind all of life’s poo!

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri
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