Life sucks
and then you die. Yeah, I'm so original. Don't really mean it though, life's not so bad. It just comes and goes without any big problems or obstacles. It just flows by as I sit back an relax. It's time like these, when I'm watching Jackass in 1:15 am while drinking peach liquor by Bols and listening to Groove armada that I realise how little I actually do in life. I realise how much time I waste by just sitting around doing nothing while I could be out there in the world doing good or bad as I choose. I'm staring at a computer screen, entereing digital text so I can send a message to thousands of people that I will never see, meet or hear from. Even worse, I'm doing it knowing that of the thousands of people that are able to read this message, there are only two people that might actually take a look at this page. This page, out of the milions of pages on the internet. But it goes even further: I write this, knowing that they probably won't repond to what I'm writing anyway. So I am sitting here, wasting valuable lifetime doing something so mindbogglingly useless that even sleeping would be more constructive...and you know what? I don't give a shit. I know I'm wasting precious seconds, minutes, hours and I don't care. Why don't I care? Is it because science has replaced God and with that destroyed the notion of afterlife? Is it because life is obviously so futile that it doesn't matter what I do while I'm on this planet? No. It's because, eventhough there is absolutely no point in writing this, I feel like doing it. Because somewhere in my mind, there is a part of me, a personality if you must, that likes contemplating life. A subset of the collection that I call myself, that actually enjoys realizing that I'm doing something so useless, that it defies everything that life stands for. A part of me that likes to think something else than the mindless mass...or rather, a part of me that likes to think that it thinks something else than the media addicted populous. Because eventhough the number of possible thoughts is seemingly infinite, the number of thoughts in a lifetime is at least just as large, and taking in account the fact that there have been billions, even trillions of lives before me on this planet, the chance that my current thoughts are truly unique is infinitisimal. But who cares about that? Who cares about anything I write in here? You? Me? Not really. We're all just reading or writing this because we need something to pass time; to keep out minds distracted from the dailyt routines. Nobody really cares. Everything is egotistical in the roots. Life has died, has never existed, will never exist. All that exists are the sleepy ravings of an anonymous guys behind a pc. The current stream of thoughts. Nothing exists, except for thought. The solipsistic view of the universe. Possibly the only right one. Definitely the most useless one. Just like life. It's funny how people are always searching for the meaning of life. How they are questing for a reason of their existence. So afraid to have no destiny, so afraid to have no purpose, so afraid to have no guide, so afraid to be free. "This isn't utopia. It's a zoo. For those strange creatures that build their own cages and hide in them". Society, government, leadership, organization, excuses for guidance, cages for our mind. But so is this, the anti-establishment like propaganda spread by people opposed to caging the mind. It's just another disguised cage, another so called reason for living: to free the world. You can't free the world. The world already is free. We just don't want to accept it. So lets see some criticism, show me your reason for living, show me your cage, so I can go fullfill my raison d'etre and disagree and discuss. Lets both jump in our cages and throw away the keys