Endless. Such is the life of a grain of sand; forever ephemeral in the sea of the world. What hope does it give to never see the sun rise, yet feel its presence all the same. What can we expect of our lives, if not for the waves of emotion that we ride along? What meaning can there ever be other than meaningless in such a world?
To who does the credit go for the creation of the universe? Could a world such as ours even be designed? Many times i have studied the patterns of rocks and grass and wondered if such a being could exist; one capable of such accuracy in its creation. But, such a being must also design the failures of my life, the mistakes, the awkward conversations. To what debt do I, nor everyone, owe this being for it to be so cruel? May such a debt ever be repaid? What purpose does repaying an endless debt serve other than to continue that passage of time?
To think is to expand yourself though yourself, and to better understand your world. Throughout my life, my mind thinks about itself, its purpose; a thought almost foreign in its structure. When I think of the meaning of my life, I often look in the actions I've taken, the choices I've made, and the mistakes that arise from them. But, is such an assessment even accurate? Often I try to simplify my experience so that I may understand them better, but in such a topic as life, would it not be wise to feel them as they are? Such a thought scares me, for the mind is a dark place; not a place of fear, but a place of chaos. The mind creates stories to entertain itself while its host is gone, weaving its experiences into dreams, and its emotions into nightmares. The mind creates meaning in everyday tasks to motivate its host to live, to thrive. We like to think that we are free in our thought, but often, we forget that we do not even truly understand what thought is. How does one expect to understand meaning when we cannot understand thought?
I write these notes as if they mean something. As if someone, somewhere, will read my thoughts as they are written on this page and feel my emotion, bear my conscious. For then, my thoughts would be free, separated from their creator and passed along to another being. Such a prospect is, in principle, why we tell children stories of legacy and passion, of glory and hope. In those moments of story, we hope to impart our emotions and our feelings on another, so that they may realize its meaning. In the end, it is the purpose my life; to depart the abscesses of my mind on to you, and hope that you have the patience to feel them.
Many people spend their lives trying to understand themselves, to feel confident in themselves. It takes a great deal of courage to do this; to put your failures and mistakes behind to understand yourself and further your being. Often, you will never find an answer you find particularly useful. Often, you will be left with more questions than you began. You will fear; You will stumble; You will loose yourself in yourself; But, you will survive. Even when it happens that you find yourself at rock bottom, find joy in the fact that you made it past the door.