I didn’t kill myself.
This is a question I have asked myself for as long as I can remember. Why this? Why that? Like a toddler learning to speak, “Why mommy, why? Why all of THIS?”. It takes a while for a young mind to realize that this “why” is entirely relative and inherently empty. Which, at first, is overwhelmingly depressing. Many of us thirst our whole lives for this “why” but when we realize that it may just be an illusion, something entirely NOT worth seeking, we find ourselves in dangerous territory. I, personally, found myself in dangerous territory. I thirsted for meaning, a purpose, and I couldn’t find it. So why live? Why do anything? Why not die?
Dying will come.
But not yet. The will to die is the affirmation of life. By acknowledging death we, in turn, acknowledge life. So why die? Why not live? If life is empty, then death must be too. By rationalizing death from the meaninglessness of life, I became a hypocrite. I saw the emptiness of life, so I attached myself to the emptiness of death. I couldn’t see that “emptiness” did not equate to “nothingness”. Rather, it is just an acknowledgement of universal relativity. THE ROYAL TRUTH is nowhere to be found. It cannot be spoken or discriminated. Simple as that. Death, the change from conscious being to unconscious being, will come in due time. I will not fuss over it.
It’s all movement. SO MOVE.
While my feelings continue their ups and downs, I can now see the movement. Sometimes it’s right in front of me, and other times it fades into the background, but I can see it’s fluctuation. It does not categorize or rationalize. It MOVES. So I will move with it, indistinguishable from the village idiot, I will move and revel at the wonder of conscious activity. An activity empty and aimless, but an activity nonetheless. A beautiful, ugly, and pointless game. Oh how wondrous it is!