Why are we alive?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

The question, 'why am i alive?' is ultimately (and if one is in a depressed or in a suicidal state of mind I would advise you in not reading) riddled with many different answers: heated arguments, tears, enthusiasm and finally and most paradoxically death.

The question, 'why am i alive?' is ultimately (and if one is in a depressed or in a suicidal state of mind I would advise you in not reading) riddled with many different answers: heated arguments, tears, enthusiasm and finally and most paradoxically death.

Some people, and these people are wrong, would like to tell you in loud enthusiastic voices, annoying smiles spread across their faces, that life is everywhere and whats most important in this world, is you. Your own life; that life was given to each individual person by God, or Allah or whatever figurehead your religion choses to believe in; life should be cherished and nurtured. The only truth in this is that life should be cherished.

There is no need to make someone else's life miserable. There may not be an actual definition of good and evil, as they are just the names for opposite sides. But people do know the difference between doing something that is wrong, or doing something that is right. Do suicide bombers know that they are doing something bad? Yes they do, but they protect their conscience with steel all in the name of religion. Even something as petty and as decrepid as religion is able to out weigh the reason to live.

Taking someone elses life is wrong, a tragedy, a 'sin'. It is not wrong because of the action the killer has made, the action muder itself, it is wrong because the deceased had no choice in the matter, no questions were asked. The people that lie in hospitals, plugged to machines as they lie dieing of incurable illnesses. They are the people that truely realise the meaning of their lives, and when they ask themselves 'why am i alive?' and find no answer, they have the right the end their lives. The reason that they lived, if they were ever lucky enough to actually have a reason to live has vanished. Their purpose has ended.

It is purpose that guides us, that allows us to live. Without a purpose you are nothing, you mean nothing, and when you die nothing is left. People will not rememeber you, grieve for you, shed a tear for you. Therefore purpose is vital to give an excuse to your life. No matter how deluded your purpose is; whether it be in blinding people with your own beliefs in some kind of God; in teaching the ignorant (the young) just so they can be better at being ignorant as they grow; or to lead a group of people to war for no grounds other than that you can. These people still have a purpose and most are very good at what it is they do. Doesn't the world around us just bloom with the goodness of preachers, teachers and leaders? Ha!

So to have purpose, not the kind that is handed to you like when you are given authority and a title - 'toilet cleaner' - but the personal kind of purpose, the kind that will stay with you throughout your life, how can you aquire one?

Love is a possibility. To raise a child, that you guide, teach and lead yourself. That you can keep an ever watching eye on, just so they don't stray. Yet a child will always grow to believe that they dont need you to guide and lead them, they always stop needing you to teach them. So your purpose leaves you as your child walks out the home door for the last time. You're no longer needed, because love is short.

Another emotion - hate - lasts a lot longer. When you hate something or someone you become obsessed. Obsession being the ultimate realisation of your purpose. You are willing to do anything to quench the hate you feel, to make it end, and eventually you will do so. But as hate only breeds more hate, will it ever truely end? Like energy, hate cannot be destroyed, only transfered and changed. So is having a purpose really worth it?

The end of your life will always come anyway, time is the biggest killer of all. Nothing has ever survived the onslaught of time and it cannot be conquered. Time is no ones friend and everyone's enemy. It has no mercy.

So if you have no purpose and having a purpose that will last your natural span on earth means hating and time is going to kill you anyway, why bother living?

The answer? I have no answer. But I will live, in defiance of dieing. I will cling to life always, even as it turns to kick me in the stomach and bloody m,y face. I'll hold so tight my knuckles go blue and i pass out. And as I die, my life will be what I lived for. Just so I can say that I had a life, and it was good.


Submitted: June 23, 2007

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