What is the reason for having a child?

I think the reason for having a child is to determine who I am at a deeper level. I’ve always been drawn to self discovery. I think there is something to discover when it comes to observing who I am in a 3rd person perspective. I am my father’s 3rd person representative of the future, and I exist fully in the moment as myself in this first person perspective. I still do not have my own future, and I would like to know what that entails. The father, the son, and the holy spirit. A complete collection of the past, present, and future. I no longer want to create a genius, or a superstar, or anything to do with fame and fortune. Sure, those can be achieved in the next life cycle, but I already feel as rich and famous as anyone ought to feel. I feel like I’ve already reached the point of needing people to understand me, and I sincerely wish to keep this journey up in understanding myself for the sake of curiosity, even if it means that I am the only curious one. This isn’t to say that I could ever find myself alone, or that I have lost my love in others. It’s just that I already feel a deep connection to the people around me and I don’t feel the need to sacrifice a future in order to solidify self. In this regard, I would love to create a very beautiful poet and musician to help entertain my needs of salvation. Someone to look up to me and perplex even the greatest of minds, even the greatest of thoughts. Philosophical and abstract thinking is what I hope my child to blossom toward. This civilization already feeds so heavily upon the obvious fruits of well known facts and remembrances. I want my child to create something never before heard, a sound that would convince perhaps even death to reveal its secrets. But then again, death is the only thing that keeps me guessing, and it is perhaps the only reason for comfort in who I am: alive, forever alive, yet almost certain that it is lie.

My mother probably wrote this book. I am probably only just a little figure who prunes his river in texts, hopping along like a frog, slithering in and out of tranquility. Reality is often cut open, and a newborn baby is found, still intact and trembling, for the snake was hunted for its haunted gaze. And the world was, and is forever amazed by the touch of the rhythmic conquest, a thirst.