all this effort, for what? I can’t even seem to enjoy myself in my own little life, let alone discover any meaning out of life itself. I hate all this doing and feeling, interfacing with reality in this way.
I think about how unlikely it is that I am flesh and blood, but then I remember that I’m not truly real anyway. I’m as real and tangible as the light produced from a flashlight. My brain watches the outside world and builds my personality, constantly adding, subtracting; all of us. So me, tyrone, is not real; just a function of this brain.
It is unlikely though, these bodies of ours, these brains, this planet in the middle of nowhere. It should be eden here, and it can be, but I’m fed up. I’m annoyed and fed up with my interactions with people. ack! Try try try again, but for what? None of this feels real. I need constant contact but that’s impossible.
2 comments
Yeah, i know how you feel. If you conclude that life has no meaning then the same must apply to everyone else. We don’t necessarily have to have a purpose. Moat things don’t have a purpose but we appreciate them nonetheless. Don’t worry about anything. You are going to be ok.
http://suicideproject.org/2012/07/so-you-want-to-end-your-life-♥-read-this-if-it-doesnt-change-your-perspective-then-email-me-and-talk-to-me-♥/