what's the point?

if you saw someone stabbing themselves
over and over and over again

would you pause
to watch
as the steel
entered the flesh,
severed the veins
tore open
the body
in hopes of ending this torment?

would you watch the blood
flow into puddles on the floor?

would you watch
as he fell limp to the floor

until death?

would you wonder
what it all means,
why we are here,
seeming but to suffer so much,
only to die?

would you desperately utter,
what is the point?
(or this should be different)?

what is the point to all this suffering?

exactly

we must all come to ask this,
and to answer it
we must ask,
what exactly is suffering?

isn't suffering but
to demand that
something be different that it is?

isn't that the lifeblood of suffering?

so what is the point
of demanding
something be different than it is?

is it ever possible?

what is the point of a tantrum, child?

it does seem a child's lesson, doesn't it?
that what is, is simply what is

and can't be anything but what it is,
ever

how very very simple reality is.

some of us say the Work is difficult...
yet isn't it perhaps harder to grasp
how confusing
we try to make such a simple thing?