Random useless depressing ramblings of a confused teen who doesn't take herself seriously...
Yesterday, while Kitty and I were outside, ready to take a walk through the town, we both witnessed something that scarred us: one of the neighbor's cats was crossing the street when a big red car drove by and hit it. The car didn't stop. It just kept going, as if nothing had happened. As if there was no poor, innocent animal bleeding to death on the cold, silent street behind it. I tried to look away as the whole thing carried on. Something inside my head was screaming at me to turn away, but I couldn't. I was too shocked to move at all. It was only until later, just after we had told the owner of the cat, that I couldn't handle it anymore. I ran. As fast as I could, I ran away. I didn't get very far because I totally broke down in the middle of the empty street a block away. I cried for what felt like eternity. How a human being can kill a defenceless animal so quickly, and then drive away in their big, fancy red car (a car the same color as the cat's blood, Kitty added) as if nothing had happened, makes me hate my own race.
It was this, and several other events that took place this past weekend-- one of my best friends moving far away, my mom being arrested for practicly nothing, and my growing obsessions--, that led me to question a lot of things. One of them being life itself.
I suppose all people have questioned life's meaning at least once or twice in their lifetime. Since yesterday, I had always thought that life has multiple meanings: that everything in itself is the meaning. And then, in my useless thoughts, I began to question life itself. I realized that we are born, we live, and then we die. Nobody knows where we go after that. Now, what does that make us? Just a sorce of entertainment for whoever, or whatever's up there? Does it make us nothing? Wouldn't that make everything nothing? Or would that be the other way around?
And then... then I thought... that maybe it didn't matter. For some reason, I feel like laughing right now. I guess that's just because of all the emotion I've been feeling lately. Or maybe I know, and I just don't realize it. Maybe everybody knows in their hearts.
And then, maybe life has no meaning...
It was this, and several other events that took place this past weekend-- one of my best friends moving far away, my mom being arrested for practicly nothing, and my growing obsessions--, that led me to question a lot of things. One of them being life itself.
I suppose all people have questioned life's meaning at least once or twice in their lifetime. Since yesterday, I had always thought that life has multiple meanings: that everything in itself is the meaning. And then, in my useless thoughts, I began to question life itself. I realized that we are born, we live, and then we die. Nobody knows where we go after that. Now, what does that make us? Just a sorce of entertainment for whoever, or whatever's up there? Does it make us nothing? Wouldn't that make everything nothing? Or would that be the other way around?
And then... then I thought... that maybe it didn't matter. For some reason, I feel like laughing right now. I guess that's just because of all the emotion I've been feeling lately. Or maybe I know, and I just don't realize it. Maybe everybody knows in their hearts.
And then, maybe life has no meaning...