Why does the will keep going?
What is the game it’s programmed to play?
What needs to move forward in time?
If time is a loop or a static point of now between fictions of then and next,
Could it be about immediate, immortal entertainment?
Curiosity, fascination, interest?
Distraction from nothingness?
A cosmic sleight of hand.
Anticipating, enjoying and thriving on continuance?
Being giddy about entering a next moment?
And what’s so important about a next moment when there will be a final moment that renders all moments moot?
Why create something that will last beyond you?
For the alleviation of suffering?
Or for the amusement of another?
For the amusement of the self.
For the eternal self that continues to be born into this oblivion.
For all the eyes and ears that have come and will come.
It’s just a small little favor.
Nothing more. Nothing less.