I’d just like to take a second to point out how absurd all this is. We’re monkeys on a rock flying through space who’ve decided to climb down from the trees, put on costumes, and makeup names for each other.
We didn’t stop at names. We’ve made up countries and kings, customs, and laws. We made up religions, beliefs, and companies. We’re all very sure we’re right, and the other people are wrong, conveniently forgetting that we made up those things too.
Whichever way you slice it, we are meaningless. Take your life compared to the 7.7 billion other humans. Or homo sapiens birth (350,000 years ago) compared to the earth’s (4.5 billion years ago), or the earth compared to the planets in our galaxy (100 billion), or the Milky Way compared to all known galaxies (another 100 billion).
Our lives are over in a few million breaths after our first gasp, an infinitely small moment in time relative to the cosmos. It’s all over before you can say ‘pointless’. Nothing we ever do will ever be remembered or matter. We spend it mostly eating, fucking, and running our pre-built programs. We are simply neurons firing in the brain of the human race.
And yet some things seem so meaningful. A golden sunset, a lover’s embrace, an old friend’s laughter. That is the paradox of life, at a macro level entirely meaningless and on an individual level, steeped with meaning.
Anyway, please continue.