Philosophy, Pipe smoking

Pipe, Smoke; Life on a Sunday Evening

A quiet Sunday afternoon, sitting in the backyard, smoking a tobacco pipe. Still new with the art of pipe smoking, struggling to keep the thing lit is a major challenge. Burning my tongue here and there. Why the effort into a potentially harmful, deadly, hobby?

I think the answer is “why do anything that does not appear to benefit my survival?”.

Well, I think my best answer tonight is that I’m curious. I want to do things to enhance my existence. I’m compelled to go out into the world and discover new things, with the condition that I do not break the law or the moral guide I have within me.

I’m driven to wonder, to ask questions. In my life, sometimes, this has caused complications and troubles that I would regret. Suffering and pain from bad choices aren’t too far from my attention. Born with a great memory, I can recall these aspects of my life all too well.

I see myself on quiet days like this as a Traveler. Metaphorically speaking, of course, I’m sitting behind the wheel of my life and I am guiding my way to the Ending. I’m not always sure what I’m doing, but I do my best.

Smoking a tobacco pipe and writing — joys of life.

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