To Ponder #1

Why do we desire life? In earnest, a question that has lingered upon my mind for quite some time. Why do we live a life full of work, and friends, and marriage and kids? At the end, when Death takes us by the hand and leads us down the path of nevermore, do these things really matter? We all meet our fate of a shrilling grave where the flame of life is extinguished by the gale of time. No matter how much knowledge we collect, how many children we birth, nor how many iPhones we own, we all meet our inevitable doom. Why do we birth when we know our kin shall perish? Do we perhaps preoccupy ourselves with meaningless tasks to cast a veil upon the depressing future which we all shall meet? Perhaps, just like sex (pardon), work so hard for a singular moment of euphoria which is like no other, and we wish to further exploit such a moment? Perhaps the reason of life is to achieve a state of constant and pure euphoria? But what is pleasure without pain? A rose without thorns? Does pain make pleasure ever so sweeter? If I gave you chocolate everyday for no apparent reason it would taste sweet at first, but after a while it wouldn’t; but if I had you do a task prior to the chocolate the chocolate would be sweet, like eating your dinner before having dessert - dessert tastes that much sweeter, does it not? Life, from how I understand it, is like a rollercoaster. If a rollercoaster just stays on a constant horizontal plane, then it isn’t fun, it’s dull. You need drops and rises to keep it exciting, both fun and fearful. So perhaps we need to achieve a state where we are above emotion? Above fear and fun; above happiness and sadness; above lust and love; above all of these fantastic and terrible emotions. Though maybe emotions, instead of logic, motivates us for logically there isn’t a means of motivation? A lust for knowledge, a want for love, a desire for an offspring? I have yet to hear a person say “Oh, it is the logical decision for me to procreate,” it is rather the response of “Oh, let’s have kids! It’ll be wonderful! Kids are so wonderful!” And so on and so forth, all of that mushy-gushy stuff. Though perhaps, going back to a meaning, that there isn’t a meaning at all? Perhaps life has no real meaning and we are simply caught up in ourselves, trying to imprint our lives as meaningful, whether it be fame, or fortune, or to create; but maybe the meaning is meaningless? It is our emotions that cloud us, and depress us in the thought that our existence has no meaning, so we jest ourselves in believing that our squabbling existence has a deeper meaning? Buddhists believe in reincarnation whilst Christians believe in heaven and hell, so the thought of an afterlife comforts us so we won’t think that we will simply die one day instead of live on, whether it be in an another plane of reality or as another form. Personally, I believe that we are a continuous cycle, a rather Buddhist philosophy that when I die my energy - my soul - will transfer into the vessel of another, though also my soul carries the possibility that it will be chained, after my death, to this god forsaken plane of reality, where I must continue to walk it as a spirit, until I serve my sentence deemed by a higher being of existence. Though I do feel rather divided, for there is a part of me that believes that we must walk in earth, or another world, as a spirit where we must find the “Road to Nothingness” or “The Long Walk” where then, once we find the Road, we are accompanied by Death, who is waiting at the entrance of the road, and we must walk down the road with death, and we must tell our tale to Death for every traveller deserves a grand tale, so courage may stay aflame within their heart, so that one day they might reach their final destination. Perhaps Death is merely a traveller and we are simply tales to be told to keep Death saturated with courage until Dear Death shall reaches its final destination? Perhaps Death is looking for a road, in contrast to ours, though this road has been lost in time and space? Who truly knows? Who truly knows anything? Is waking simply a dream, and a dream simply waking? I excuse, for poetry and fantasy will always run my heart.Though without fantasy, how can we survive reality?