I’ve come to see existence for what it is, and it’s made me feel tired. Death or not, life is pointless. All that we do serves only to perpetuate our species for it’s own sake. Everything is either a lie or a distraction. Without the superficial activities, conversations, feelings, and thoughts we have, there is nothing. What are we working toward, really? Even if we were gods, we would eventually run out of things to do or learn. Even a simple person like me can see that the universe does not need us or care that we are here. There is no higher purpose. We are no different than ants, or viruses. Knowing this, I feel empty in everything that I do. I have no goal because there is no goal worth having. I, like everyone else, am simply here because I was born, and am fated to die. After that, I will be forgotten in time. I might as well not even exist. I don’t care about humanity or the effect I will have on it. Either our race will be destroyed someday, or we will rise to become bored, miserable immortals. That is the truth. I only hold on because of my family, and some days that is just not enough. I am certain that one of these days I will wake up and feel nothing, and there will be nothing left to stop me. It doesn’t matter anyway. Nothing ever really did.