A lot people have this idea that everyone was put on this earth for a reason. That there is someone up there or some higher source of power who mapped out each individual’s life and placed him/her here so they could fulfill a specific goal. And I so badly want to believe that’s true, but with billions of people inhabiting this earth that seems like an awful lot of work.
And although I may not necessarily believe we were put on this earth with a particular purpose, I can’t bring myself to be completely satisfied with that because if there is no exact reason for our existence then what is the point of all of this? What’s the point of going to school and landing a job and finding love if we’re all going to die anyways? It’s all just fluff. But I guess we choose to ignore that because focusing on it makes the world more depressing than it already is.
We’re born, we live, we die and we go back to the earth. We don’t know why but somehow we found our way here, and we’re given the chance to experience this indescribable thing called life and it can just be taken away from us at any second. But how can life, which is this incredible thing, be so cruel and yet so beautiful at the same time?
I want to believe that my life is significant, that I’m significant, but maybe in the grand scheme of things the truth is I’m not, none of us are. Maybe our purpose is to just be. To take the small pocket of time we’re given and do the best we can with it, make the most out of what we are given.
It may not be what I want and it may never be good enough for me, but it’s something I’m trying to accept. And hopefully one day I will be okay with that.
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