“I’ll never deny I was a mother’s son, from the very first moment that I arrived.

In the flow of consequence, it was over before it began. I failed to give her flowers every day she was alive.

Is it existential or humanist or something in-between?

Am I now trying to relate to the universe or just be a better human being?

I am happy to have been here and to see what I have seen.

Still, what used to excite enthusiasm has become so routine.

The most common cause of men’s early death, it would be that of a son being himself.

At the pity of a potent nature exceeding the grasp of reason.

If something can die, it must be alive.

Trying to balance situations but often left uneven.

If something has an end, it can be survived.”