Nothing matters.
We are all hurtling towards inglorious doom.
Even if we die surrounded by loved ones, we still die alone.
Humanity will end, either in a bang or whimper, but either way in tragedy.
The best thing you’ve ever done is as pointless as yelling at the wind.
Every achievement of man eventually goes the way of Ozymandias.
“I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
– Percy Shelley
All our works, reduced to nothing, in an indifferent universe with not even a traveler to tell of their fragmented remains, or a poet to capture the irony.
So… why…
Why anything?
Doing anything is as absurd as trying to bail out the oceans with a sieve. Futility is the ultimate end of all.
Yet we exist.
We exist with the capacity for pain, capacity for fear, capacity for aching loss.
Imagine Sisyphus happy? No.
Imagine yourself happy.
Happy despite you’ve never directly experienced the world you try to make your mark on.
Happy despite you can truly know nothing.
And that makes existence fantastic.
The beauty of a sunset. The joy of a toddling babe.
They exist only for a moment. The memories a moment longer. In our attempts to capture them slightly longer yet still… they are a blink of the ephemeral in the vastness that is…
Everything.
Permanence and perfection are empty ideals, the quality of a hell masquerading as a heaven.
Love is sweeter for the longing and the loss
We value justice for we know it exists where we make it, that the universe cares not for it.
Waiting for the pivot to the wisdom from all of this?
Me too.
Laughing every step up the hill.