The meaning of life (according to Eddie and Darlene)

Self-Burial, 1969 ©Keith Arnatt

Forgiveness never ends, he thought to himself. Either it’s a bottomless cup or it’s nothing. Black—no milk, no sugar.

Why, she asked, if all these small things we do, all this work that gets dumped on us day after day, if all our love and our attachments mean absolutely nothing and everything will eventually get incinerated, why do we bother to do anything? Is there any reason to keep on living? Is that why it’s better to smoke our lives away, why oblivion and death seem to call to us continually, like they’re summoning us home? How do we do it? How do we go on?

James Hannaham - Delicious Foods (Little, Brown and Company-2015)