January 7, 2022    Article    766 words    4 mins read

As of late, it seems that a horrible disease has taken root inside me, it feels that something is gnawing at me, choking my very will to live. These days, everything I do, watch, see and listen seems so utterly meaningless, futile and devoid of substance. All around me I see people going from point A to B or B to A, doing something or the other, trying to make ends meet, making money, building houses, being face-buried in their phones etc.

We are living just for the sake of living, and with a deep frustration I want to scream at the Universe and ask what’s the point of it all? Life has been going on for generations upon generations, people are born, they grow up, reproduce, grow old and die, rinse and repeat. Why? Where is it all leading to? It all feels like a chore, life feels like a meaningless chore full of suffering.

I don't understand it at all.

And despite all of this, we go on living. We have this insane thirst to live that we’ll do anything just to survive. Why such a love for life which feels pointless and amounts to nothing. I’ve seen people in the shady parts of the town sell themselves just to get money to feed their ailing kids, I’ve seen little kids beg on the street just so they have something to eat, I’ve known someone with both kidneys failed, running on dialysis for years just so he could live longer. Why cling on to life so dearly? Why don’t we all die so the misery ends forever? Everything that I used to love feels hollow and grey right now.

Because of that, I feel like i’m living in a constant state of fear, a maddening paranoia. I feel so mortally scared all the time, of what exactly I really don’t know how to describe. Every waking moment, it feels I am desperately searching for something, something that will give me peace, something that will put my manic anxiety to rest but I’m just not finding it. My need to assign some meaning to life is so strong and my realisation that there isn’t any causes so much pain and anguish that I cannot bear it.

The truth is that the meaning of life is something intensely personal to each individual and everybody has something entirely unique which makes them tick and motivates them to go through their day. This motivation is entirely founded on personal history, personal preferences, meaningful experiences, etc. Life has no meaning other than what an individual ascribes to his own. Memories are unreliable, barely anything is stored and what is stored is prone to a jumbling and falsification of facts. The far future doesn’t exist and an individual’s vision of how the future could unfold is subject to culture, time, era, and personal specific fantasies.

But if you’re honest with yourself you’ll find out that there aren’t any hard and fast answers to your questions. Accepting that fact is the first step towards maturity.

Humans have arrived at the logical conclusion of their materialist and short sighted modus operandi, and biologically adapted to it at such a rate that is impossible for most humans to live on their own accord. The prehistoric humans had to be much more highly evolved and sophisticated than modern us can imagine, mistakes were deadly and stupidity was a death sentence. Despite having the entire collective knowledge of almost 10000 years worth of information collected and available via a simple search from a handheld computer with mobile internet, most of us are utterly defeated when faced with basic problems that could be solved with some basic understanding of surroundings.

And here we are today, most younger ones (me included) have no clue why things are the way they are let alone how we got here, left to wonder and wander like exiles from their homes in search of some place to rest, but there is no rest for the restless. So we pursue unicorns only us can see while the rest has become content to lay and roll around in their own filth in which the ones with bigger cells will defend what little they have.

I guess that in the most basic sense I like to consider myself just a confused ape whose life and death will be ultimately absurd and meaningless in the grand scheme of things. But if I do have a purpose to my life, the aim is to be a little more than just an ape.

end apeshifting