About a block from my house is a very beautiful, old church. Although I have yet to see the inside of the church, I have great views of it from my apartment, especially from my porch.
I often can be found out on my porch breathing in the fresh air and contemplating life as I stare off into the distance at the church steeples. What is the meaning of life? Where did we come from? Who are we? Where are we going?
Usually the only reason I’m on my porch is to have the occasional cigarette. Hey! I might be contemplating life. You don’t know.
But usually I’m just contemplating...