life has lost its meaning.
why do so many value life so much? so much is spent every year by so many on such hopes to extend life. immortality seems quite impossible, at least immortality in our state of flesh. because then time would become irrelevant and opportunity would become meaningless. time exists because we cannot all at once perceive everything around us, so they appear to us at distinct and disparate instances. immortality would allow us to perceive again, to try again. immortality confers the chance to restart, to redo. then, carpe diem would cease. life is beautiful because it is ephermeral, just like the crazy nips appreciate the sakura because they die fast.
i have come to be amazed by how people can value life so much. the old, sick and weak pressuring forward. the retired who do nothing much but gardening and popping pills to kill time and keep themselves alive to kill time. the centenarian who does yoga to keep healthy, to live longer to do more yoga.
i havent smiled in a long time. i havent really laughed in a long time. whenever i laugh something inside feels sickened, twisted. i aske myself, why, and i know not the answer. perhaps some baser emotions. that i can understand, but beyond that, i know not the will to live. the pursuit of happiness doesnt seem to make any sense to me anymore. mostly i see the pursuit coming to nought, the sacrifice of present satisfaction vaporise as the future satisfaction fails to materialize. and even when that endstate i yearned for so luckily comes to being, i am again lost in another endeavor.
always we set goals, for a better future. a brighter tomorrow. but at what cost, and for what future? will earning mountains of money make me happy? will becoming a corporate bigwig make me happy? will becoming a leader of men make me happy? surely they will, in some ways, but will i not be happy being a pauper, in some wicked, twisted way? i dont know. high flyer, why, high flyer?
maybe life is sad because my life revolves around myself. some say, living for others is most satisfying. i have never found that the case. i have refrained from attachment since my goldfish died when i was 7. it hurt.
i know not what im doing, why am i thinking and for what i am living. sometimes, i just want to extract myself from all these sensory experiences. but i havent yet done drugs. the older i become, the more my life resembles that in the state of nature. of threats and compellence, as those in power seek to oppress the weak and feed on them. dulce et decorum est, pro patria mori. propaganda. and later i am going to feed on it as i book in to continue my miserable experience for another 1.5 years.
the only reason that i am still alive is because i do not know what happens in death. do i stay in limbo, trapped in my coffin to wait for domesday? or would my conscious just disappear? i dont know. and i am afraid of what i dont know. maybe i should break out, take the chance. but i am a wuss. i am afraid of the unknown. i am afraid of death.
i dont want to die. i just wish i had never been born at all.
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