I feel like I was an anthropologist in an old Victorian multi level house.
I feel like I was searching for answers amongst the artefacts and trinkets.
I stumbled into the basement which was full of Jungians, Buddhists and quantum physicists (and a few Taoists and comedians).
They had a big book called “The meaning of life”.
Outside we’re pink mountains and behind the mountains were more questions, moving away forever.
For the first time I felt I had got answers.
Like I was in the sub strata of life.
Why am I writing this?