Why are we born? You are the answer. Why does the earth revolve around the sun? Only the fire in your eyes can respond to such a question. Why do we struggle, and perish? Our births are the living answer, and no words shall replace them. We are the answers. Not ideas. Not models. Beings. Our lives. Our relations. We are the answers. The questions are illusions based on inelegant reductions. Nonetheless, they draw us forth. Onward to wonder, and beyond. To agony, and resolution. To love, to unity, and to death.