I've come to a realization.
This planet we live on is not a world where we are meant to find any kind of purpose. It is not a place where somebody is meant to find the meaning of life. No, my poor friends, it is instead, a prison planet, and you are next in line for death row. Only, the Green Mile isn't so much a mile as it is a road we are all marching on.
Your parents, or guardians, if you're less than lucky, like me in the past, will quickly go from being that, to your masters. You will go from being a child to a young slave, grinding away at cleaning the same mess every day, picking up the same garbage, folding the same clothes, and the like, only for it all to come back again the very next day.
Your friends....they're all fake. It doesn't matter who they are. It doesn't matter what they do. In the end, one day you will walk away from them for the last time, and the next time you go looking for them, either they won't remember who you are, or they'll just not be there. And even those that do stick around, they're always the snakes in the grass. People pretending to be friends so they can get what they want from you, only to stab you in the back in the end.
Everything you have and love, it will leave you in the end. Anything you dare to call your own, none of it is permanent. It could be a family photo or an heirloom, anything at all, one day, it will be lost in a fire, mistakenly thrown into a landfill, destroyed either on purpose or accidentally, stolen from you... whatever the case, it won't last.
We are all just... slaves. Cattle. Robots with bones and flesh. Expendable pawns on a chess board the size of a planet. None of this is truly real. These words you see that I have just typed? All an illusion against a plastic mirror your brain is fabricating for you. Those stuffed animals you had as a kid, that you pretended could talk, eat, dance and sing? In reality just pillows with arms, legs and a face.
There is no such thing as happiness, value, optimism. No such thing as a good day, or a bad day. No such thing as Heaven or Hell. No such thing as outer space. No such thing as God.
This is all just a horrible, horrible dream that we cannot wake from. And when we die, there is nothing to look forward to. Not as in, there is nothing to hope for to happen next, "nothing" as in literally NOTHING. When you die and your heart beats for the last time, and your eyes close never to open again, all you are left with is absolute void. There is no "Archangel Michael" waiting to ask you if your name is in the Book of Life. There is no Baron of Hell waiting to show you what your true form is and what you will be punished for. There is just absolute zero on the other side. LIGHTS OUT.
What do you call "purpose"? What do you perceive to be hope, faith? Is it a Gideon Bible, a New King James Bible? Seems like a pretty big deal to make for a floppy, flimsy brick made of paper...
This planet we live on is not a world where we are meant to find any kind of purpose. It is not a place where somebody is meant to find the meaning of life. No, my poor friends, it is instead, a prison planet, and you are next in line for death row. Only, the Green Mile isn't so much a mile as it is a road we are all marching on.
Your parents, or guardians, if you're less than lucky, like me in the past, will quickly go from being that, to your masters. You will go from being a child to a young slave, grinding away at cleaning the same mess every day, picking up the same garbage, folding the same clothes, and the like, only for it all to come back again the very next day.
Your friends....they're all fake. It doesn't matter who they are. It doesn't matter what they do. In the end, one day you will walk away from them for the last time, and the next time you go looking for them, either they won't remember who you are, or they'll just not be there. And even those that do stick around, they're always the snakes in the grass. People pretending to be friends so they can get what they want from you, only to stab you in the back in the end.
Everything you have and love, it will leave you in the end. Anything you dare to call your own, none of it is permanent. It could be a family photo or an heirloom, anything at all, one day, it will be lost in a fire, mistakenly thrown into a landfill, destroyed either on purpose or accidentally, stolen from you... whatever the case, it won't last.
We are all just... slaves. Cattle. Robots with bones and flesh. Expendable pawns on a chess board the size of a planet. None of this is truly real. These words you see that I have just typed? All an illusion against a plastic mirror your brain is fabricating for you. Those stuffed animals you had as a kid, that you pretended could talk, eat, dance and sing? In reality just pillows with arms, legs and a face.
There is no such thing as happiness, value, optimism. No such thing as a good day, or a bad day. No such thing as Heaven or Hell. No such thing as outer space. No such thing as God.
This is all just a horrible, horrible dream that we cannot wake from. And when we die, there is nothing to look forward to. Not as in, there is nothing to hope for to happen next, "nothing" as in literally NOTHING. When you die and your heart beats for the last time, and your eyes close never to open again, all you are left with is absolute void. There is no "Archangel Michael" waiting to ask you if your name is in the Book of Life. There is no Baron of Hell waiting to show you what your true form is and what you will be punished for. There is just absolute zero on the other side. LIGHTS OUT.
What do you call "purpose"? What do you perceive to be hope, faith? Is it a Gideon Bible, a New King James Bible? Seems like a pretty big deal to make for a floppy, flimsy brick made of paper...