closest thing to heaven
sometimes, when i'm drunk, i feel like its the time when i can best realize and feel certain horrible realities, like freezing to death or getting shot at. i think its because normally, the mind tries at all costs to make sure you can't truly imagine such things.
also, i post on this journal only when i'm depressed. only when i'm depressed do i feel that my thoughts ought to be heard. sometimes i want to ask a smart person why they go to school and what they feel is important in life. my goals and motivations and merely concerned with the short term. i could not care less about the long term. i feel like i am so meaningless that i don't even exist. but i'm still alive.
do people do things because they can't possibly imagine what its like to be dead? i know that no one whos alive can really say what its like to be dead, but i feel like i know what its like, no matter how alive i am. and it doesn't make sense to me how there can be meaning in life if everything will be meaningless when we're all dead. is death the most terrifying thing for everyone because at that moment they realize how truly pointless everything they did was? i can't see death as being anything other than the most frightening thing anyone could ever experience. is this why people live? trying to push that deadline back and back and back? sometimes i want to know so badly.
thats what it comes down to: life and death, for everyone. you can't escape it. there must be some people who live, or have lived, for their whole lives knowing nothing but bliss and mortal perfection. or perhaps the catch to being alive is this plague of internal struggle, this metaphor of good and evil, this question 'of to be or not to be'.
also, i post on this journal only when i'm depressed. only when i'm depressed do i feel that my thoughts ought to be heard. sometimes i want to ask a smart person why they go to school and what they feel is important in life. my goals and motivations and merely concerned with the short term. i could not care less about the long term. i feel like i am so meaningless that i don't even exist. but i'm still alive.
do people do things because they can't possibly imagine what its like to be dead? i know that no one whos alive can really say what its like to be dead, but i feel like i know what its like, no matter how alive i am. and it doesn't make sense to me how there can be meaning in life if everything will be meaningless when we're all dead. is death the most terrifying thing for everyone because at that moment they realize how truly pointless everything they did was? i can't see death as being anything other than the most frightening thing anyone could ever experience. is this why people live? trying to push that deadline back and back and back? sometimes i want to know so badly.
thats what it comes down to: life and death, for everyone. you can't escape it. there must be some people who live, or have lived, for their whole lives knowing nothing but bliss and mortal perfection. or perhaps the catch to being alive is this plague of internal struggle, this metaphor of good and evil, this question 'of to be or not to be'.