Dec 11, 2006 03:37
Life. In all honesty, why do we bother? To live a solitary life, from the moment of our birth, blind, half-retarded, and cold, crawling into this forsaken world until the moment of our own death, blind, half retarded, and cold, crawling back into the Earth. We come into this world, cold and alone, and we leave this world, cold and alone. We bother with life because all the people that we have met along the way make this charade a little more bearable. In living, we help keep eachother alive.
I close my eyes and imagine a world where I hadn't be born. I wonder, would it be better? Would it be worse? How would be be different? And then I wonder, what if I had made my choices differently. Would I be happier than I am today? I suppose there is a parallel universe which embodies all of these situations.
But at the same time, I also can't help but feel as if destiny has led me to this point. But I dread this. For if that were the case, I should have no regrets, no hopes, no wishes. Destiny is not my driver.
I suppose that we're all struggling to find our place in the world, to give meaning to our own existences. But in the end, I like to believe that there is not meaning to life; life is special all on its own.
Wake up because you want to show the world your beauty.
Life Begins.... now.