Point Less

But then a user of language decided the term had no business being there. 

A completely pointless view, really, since a word doesn't search — it is found. Or sometimes, simply not. 

Now, the word "pointless" is quite aware that it tends to occupy the negative, dismissive corner. In its defence, no word ever chooses its corner. Meaning itself is defined by rhetoric and by those who wield it.

Pointless? In modern society, efficiency is often considered the highest virtue. Everything must have a purpose, everything must deliver measurable value. If the word "pointless" enters the conversation, an activity or thing is deemed a sinful waste. 

The purpose is missing — and therefore so is the right to exist in society.
Or so some would have us believe.

My, that reads a bit sharp. Or perhaps even pointless.

Just putting it out there: how often have excellent ideas and projects come to life because someone wasn't focused on a purpose at all, but on daydreaming instead? Playfulness tends to produce better — and above all, more surprising — outcomes than when the mind approaches something with a fixed agenda.

As does that tiresome remark, "The end justifies the means," tossed carelessly into empty space.

Yes, I have a fondness for purposeless pursuits — like dozing quietly or simply watching the world around me. 
How often does the subconscious run at full throttle without its owner even noticing. 
Then suddenly the body jolts upright, because a lightning-fast thought has slipped into the relaxed atmosphere uninvited.

Recently, I visited my friend Phil in hospital several times. 
He has been there for nearly five weeks now, brought there by an infection. 
Phil is 99 years old and spends most of his day sleeping.
That seems entirely understandable to me, when I consider his biography as a documentary filmmaker and cameraman across more than 40 conflicts. And yes, 99 years of living is exhausting.

And yet I enjoy sitting at his bedside, talking to Phil, who lies before me with closed eyes and deep, steady breaths.

Pointless? 
Good question.
Good question? 

I honestly don't know whether my presence serves any purpose for Phil. 
The visit serves a purpose for me. 
Yes — I'll admit that's rather selfishly motivated. 
I always enjoyed talking with Phil. 
Now the conversation is — linguistically speaking — one-sided.
Perhaps the odd word still reaches him.

And if not — well, that's just the way it is.
Purpose or not. Point made. Full stop.