You sound like I did last night. Which is probably why I feel i can't just let you go without at least attempting to argue against against you, mostly because I don't think people should be left alone with these thoughts...because that is sadly familiar
( ... )
Part of the reason why I understand why people like to believe in God is that there's a purpose, pre-packaged beautifully, just for you, you know? There's this reassurance that there is someone Up There taking care of you, someone with a Plan that you are part of, a Plan that somehow would fail without you. It's a sense of importance, a sense of purpose. Sometimes when I'm depressed I curse my logical, rational mind because I want to believe in that. I want to, but I can't. I can't believe that there's a God up there who has a purpose for me, because I want to find that purpose myself. Most of the time, I can find that purpose, even though it's usually short-term
( ... )
Personally I feel that searching for what is out there is something ultimately fruitless because you will only know what 'right' when you die. Unless it really is dust to dust and your existence, your self is no more and this wonderful/horrible consciousness is no more. Life is there for the living, to cherish every peaceful moment and cry when there is sadness.
I may not know Albert Einstein's smile, but there are people whose smile I remember and who remember mine. When I die the importance of smile diminishes but what it achieved during my lifetime even if it is not acknowledged is what is important.
I don't give a damn if no one remembers my smile, or the odd way I yawn, or that I adore coffee cheesecake. As long as the world remembers me, and my name, and my life isn't forgotten, I don't give a damn about anything else. You said that deeds are all that define us, but that's because we are defined, through our deeds. It's the truth. Our writings, words, paintings, theories...those are what give the picture of the person behind them. And if I leave nothing but my stories behind, I will be content, because people will read them and think of the person who wrote them and what they thought and felt. At least that's what I think of when I read, and if one person after me reads my work and wonders that, I will have won. Fuck you Death.
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I may not know Albert Einstein's smile, but there are people whose smile I remember and who remember mine. When I die the importance of smile diminishes but what it achieved during my lifetime even if it is not acknowledged is what is important.
Best wishes.
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And you write ridiculous entries when you feel depressed. Or perhaps that's just me. =D
Thank you! -hugs-
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