What shall I do?
I thought about the meaning of life today when I was bathing. . . I know it sounds rather weird, but you probably don't get any other time of the day where you think about things so much because you're always doing something else. Except perhaps when you sit on bus rides home. But mostly you're just waiting for your stop, waiting for time to pass by and occasionally feeling sick, and you don't think so much.
It feels like Sadness has settled on me. If Sadness were personified, it would be an angel in grey, standing behind you with its hands placed on your shoulders in a semblance of giving comfort, but also imparting sorrow in that step.
The meaning of life is to live it to the fullest? To your definition of the fullest? It bothers me. There must a Right purpose to live for! It shows so clearly on other people, who have chosen to live their lives by something, whether it is a religion as scary as the cults it criticises, or survival of the fittest and getting a good job and improving your circumstances, or whether it's breaking technological and social barriers for mankind. Or whether it's as simple as making other people happy. Because if they didn't think it were right, they wouldn't have chosen to live that way. Or at least if they didn't think that was the only way to live.
I'm a little tired of doing everyday things like going to school and talking to friends. There are all these empty gaps in between where you could just disappear and nothing would be affected. I don't think it takes long for a person's traces to disappear from this world, especially for one so insignificant as I. I wish I could just drown myself in something, whether it's music or writing or schoolwork or love. But none of those seem to be working now, so perhaps they won't ever work on me unless I forcefully illusion myself, which somehow feels false and hypocritical.
Perhaps all those people you know now are doing that. Busying themselves in things that they don't really like, because they don't want to be at a loss.
I'm sure immortals don't have this need to buy into a false ANYTHING. Because time has healed all desire for that, so that the days pass as mist and stars. Apocalypses must touch them as faintly as the critters called humans touch the Mother Earth.
In that case I really TRULY want to be an immortal.
Thoughtful,
Alaris.
It feels like Sadness has settled on me. If Sadness were personified, it would be an angel in grey, standing behind you with its hands placed on your shoulders in a semblance of giving comfort, but also imparting sorrow in that step.
The meaning of life is to live it to the fullest? To your definition of the fullest? It bothers me. There must a Right purpose to live for! It shows so clearly on other people, who have chosen to live their lives by something, whether it is a religion as scary as the cults it criticises, or survival of the fittest and getting a good job and improving your circumstances, or whether it's breaking technological and social barriers for mankind. Or whether it's as simple as making other people happy. Because if they didn't think it were right, they wouldn't have chosen to live that way. Or at least if they didn't think that was the only way to live.
I'm a little tired of doing everyday things like going to school and talking to friends. There are all these empty gaps in between where you could just disappear and nothing would be affected. I don't think it takes long for a person's traces to disappear from this world, especially for one so insignificant as I. I wish I could just drown myself in something, whether it's music or writing or schoolwork or love. But none of those seem to be working now, so perhaps they won't ever work on me unless I forcefully illusion myself, which somehow feels false and hypocritical.
Perhaps all those people you know now are doing that. Busying themselves in things that they don't really like, because they don't want to be at a loss.
I'm sure immortals don't have this need to buy into a false ANYTHING. Because time has healed all desire for that, so that the days pass as mist and stars. Apocalypses must touch them as faintly as the critters called humans touch the Mother Earth.
In that case I really TRULY want to be an immortal.
Thoughtful,
Alaris.
Labels: life
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