My Schtick
Fuck. why?
Most people have a schtick, I bastardize the meaning a bit here but its what people do. Do with their time, their minds, and their hands.
Rock climbing, money, sedation. To each their own, but a schtick nonetheless.
Mine? Mine is just a question: why?
Why does this work the way it does?
Why do I do what I do? Why do you?
Why am I alive? I’m not ungrateful, just curious…
It seems to harmonize all my musings into just a simple question: “why tho?”