We are but animals...with a brain...
Hmm...I sometime wonder why we live.
What is the point in ourselves living? How valuable is one single human being?
If I were to die tomorrow, the world would be unmoved.
So what is the point of living?
Animals live for the singular purpose of living - they have been given life and therefore they do what those who have been given life do -> Sleep, find and/or hunt food, eat food, do toiletries, mate (unless they are scorpions), take care of children for an allocated time, then die.
Of course, the animals' success is in staying alive until they naturally die. Not made easier by the introduction of humans. Then again, it is people like Dick Cheney who helps keep animals alive by mistaking a fellow lawyer wearing bright-orange hunting gear to be a small, tiny brown quiall.
Unfortunately those cases of protecting the environment, flora and fauna are rare; but it does show that people like Cheney do care.
And it also emphasizes humans attachment to animals -> We are just as stupid as they are.
Our lives are just as empty as theirs is.
Just that we made up stuff to waste and occupy us before we die.
So, was there a purpose?
As a human, I'd think and hope there was a purpose in creating life; that that life should be used for good, to improve on other people's lives.
But when does it end? What is the point? You study your ass off during your junior years, work your ass off during your mid-crisis years and distance your ass off during your senile last years; and all for what?
So that all generations after you can do the same thing.
Yet as an animal, I see no reason to do anything except laze around all day until you get hungry. What else is there to do? Most parents' children have no respect for their parents and never listen to them until it is too late.
Those parents practically give up their lives for their children, only to have those children reject them and hate them for a reason they simply can't properly explain.
If I ever have children when I grow up, I'd want them to be understanding, to be loving and to appreciate what I do for them. Spending all my life working my ass off so my children can have a better life then I had holds no value if my children don't appreciate it.
Yet the funny thing is, I have to work my ass off no matter what.
That's the tragedy of the viscous cycle of human growth and decay. Like ants we flock in our thousands, able to take down larger predators then ourselves and being able to carry things 200 times heavier then ourselfs (using cranes of course). We are able to, like ants, create vast empires, and have them come crushing down. We have law and enforcement in the form of weaponry just like they do (soldier ants); and we go to work each day, mindlessly with no purpose in life just like ants do.
Ants are born to serve their Queen, to die serving their Queen and nothing else.
Humans are born to serve the economy, and to die serving the economy and nothing else.
And so I wonder what is the point of it all.
I've always wished to just have people hug me and go out with people; having fun. Enjoying life at it's core.
...but sometimes I find that pointless too...cause we are going to all die anyway and if you feel a lot of happiness, as you grow older and approach death; you are only going to become more unhappy and fear death even more because you want to be with your friends forever; but you can't.
That's the real life; a Shakespearean play where each and every one of us is the tragic bystander, some a tragic hero; others just flat characters used to drive the never-ending; always repetitive plot. King Lear dies, and so does innocent, honest and just Cordelia. Regan, Edmund and Goneril die, but so does innocent and mistinterpreted Gloucestor. And at the end of the play, we know that the process will continue with Edgar saying "Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest have borne most. We that are young / Shall never see so much, nor live so long."
What is he saying? He says that the old learn their lessons; have lived through it all; but the young do not.
Yet the young are the ones who get power, but they don't learn until; like King Lear and Gloucestor, it is all too late.
The tragedy of King Lear is that, although the evil characters die, the good also die with them. Although axe-murderers, serial rapists and spin doctors eventually die one way or the other; the good in this world who benefit from nothing (because they obey the law and are controlled by everybody around them as a pawn is; sacrificing the life of the happy in order to serve the economy) also die in the end.
THAT...is the tragedy of life.
And I guess that' s why I am a pawn as well. I want others to be happy because quantitatively, I (one) is not as important as those I make happy (many more than just one). In that case, I will just pretend that my life is important by thinking that my life has made some people more happier as people increasingly turn to hatred and corruption to fulfill their life-long goals of power and greed.
Have you ever made anybody unhappy? Why do so? Do you enjoy watching people become unhappy?
Has the world come to this? Or was the world always like that, humans as we are, we are still animals who love watching the pain that our prey casts, mocking them with our stern, unmoving eyes.
Has it come to this? Why?
...I know not, but at least I am not one like that.
When priests are more in word than matter;
