What is the meaning of life? Lately, I have been pondering that question as it is a toy for my brain; also as my brain is a toy for that question. Is the purpose of life to follow our own dreams or accomplish the stereotypical goals of America. I use to always be able to answer that question with the first response I gave in two seconds, but now I am just not sure.
All I want for my life is to be free to express, create, and follow my dreams. Being a millionaire or celebrity just doesn't make the mark of a consummate life. Yet, without money, people can't experience traveling, supporting a family, going to restaurants, etc. I always thought money shouldn't matter in the real prospect of things, but am I just being ignorant to the reality of life? I am just not sure.
Is wanting people to care for you as much as you care for them being greedy? Is questioning why we are here on this Earth a useless inquiry? It is not just confusion; it is fear and pain of this confusion that is guiding me in this post. Like something was inflating my chest until it burst, this fear grows inside me. Why can life through some eyes be sublime and the next day lackluster?
Why do beliefs change, and why does this hurt? What are people really thinking inside their heads? Why do we sometimes feel...incomplete?
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1 comment:
whoa...good post. I'm lost for words. I don't think anyone has any answers what will help you out...but all I can say is that you shouldn't worry about it too much, alright? I love you. And thanks for the compliment on my blog.
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