Life.

What is it all for? Is it supposed to mean something? If so, why is the answer so elusive, so hard to define? In the past, I might have said that life was about love, a pursuit of happiness. I thought I knew what love was on two occasions but at this point in my life I have abandoned that overly romantic notion.

These days I believe that life is something based within the ego. It is something selfish. It is a desire for contentment and comfort. But it seems that no matter what I think I want or what I think I may want to do in this life the thoughts ALWAYS diminish and then melt away back into the nether of nothingness.

This world that every human wades through each day has become little more than a prison for me. I feel trapped by the materialism.  Reading this, one might think that I have a desire to “end it”  with hopes that there is some realm beyond the living but I can assure anyone that there is nothing I fear more than dying – ceasing to exist.

I feel this way because I believe so intently that death is a true end. Meat batteries, that once depleted, are discarded. And like a battery the only purpose we serve in this world is to fuel the things that we are connected to.

So then, what happens when you no longer feel connected to ANYTHING, other than fueling society with your labor? Read more