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The Pointlessness Of Life
The point, if any, is just to live.
It is to survive, reproduce, and… well… that’s about it.
We humans are the only species smart enough and self-aware enough to question this.
We want our life to mean something more because we are well aware of the limits of our lives.
Some day we will perish and, given enough time, everything we have ever done will be forgotten.
Who we were, what we did, even the thought of us existing here will be forever lost in time and will eventually be as though we did not exist.
It’s this idea of being forgotten, this idea of having no purpose and just being alive to eventually disappear that our mind tries to prevent.
If we were to truly take this into account we would eventually despair as there would be no point to anything we have done, are doing, or will ever do.
Without a point to life, why try that hard?
Why try to reproduce or live at all if it does not matter one bit?
In this sense, it is all senseless and without a point.
But it is this senselessness that can also bring an air of freedom.
If there was a point to life, say, to reproduce for example, then anyone who does not produce…
