If I was a miracle worker, -and I certainly hope that I was,- I'm sure that I'd escape my straightjacket, And plunder the Universe. Who says that I haven't? You don't know. But I do, Or else, I think I do, And so the conundrum goes on, To multiple places. They are all guesses, And there are only three of them. He's mad. He's lying. It happened. Ah, Reality, you sour old puss, Let out some of your verbal torrent, Onto us the lucky few.
I'm an author.
We can say by metaphysics that our lives are planned and predictable, though seeing the events and situations in our lives in the reality of what they are ontologically there is no interpretation of them that implies greater meaning. From a nihilistic point of view we do not have any lives and there is no meaning. So this is about my views on life.
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2 Nov 2026
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