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I always think about what life means — it’s a silly, childish question, but it helps me frame my experience in such a way that I don’t get too comfortable; too in a grove; too automated. What does it mean? What does all this mean — all these people waiting for an endlessly delayed J train? These questions are a kind of secular pilgrim’s prayer —
Have mercy on this miserable sinner —
Something is lost when civilization stops taking the notion of sin (and mercy) seriously; when people can go about their business divested of the weight of the metaphysical; when they just get off the train and get back on again. Wake up, go to sleep. Fuck, eat, shit —
Function.
It is fairly easy to function, fairly difficult to live.
