Nothing Changes If Nothing Changes

Nothing changes if nothing changes. . .

And we hardly ever change. . . 

Life assembled 

Is destined from the start

To fall apart

The curse 

Or gift 

Of entropy 

Having a beginning 

And an ending

A small life in the middle

Intertwined with so many mysteries

Making life an unsolvable riddle

Questions on questions

All while we stay the same

Only slightly insane 

Only very plain

All while

Nothing really changes

And we all know that we have to change ourselves

But

We don’t

We just repeat the same patterns over and over again

Until our comfortable lives

Full of routine 

Are chiseled into our souls

. . .

And then a man

On one of our screens

Talks about his addictions

And his bad habits

And as tears roll down his face

He says to us, 

“Nothing changes if nothing changes, Man. . . And ain't nothing fucking changing.”

And then a monster forms in our stomachs—

A monster that is terrified of complacency—

And who is hungry for novelty.

That monster rages in our bellies, 

never satisfied, 

always hungry, 

always around to haunt us.

And we end up grateful,

That something inside of us

Is still pushing us

To change. 

We end up glad that we are a monster who rages against the mundane repeated patterns of life.

CH 2/21/24