Everyday I keep pushing forward into the future, work to satisfy physiological needs, stave off negative emotions, and hope for something better. My flesh prison slowly begin to break down with every moment that I'm alive, and as the years pass I watch other people experiencing those bits of temporary happiness that I wanted as I slowly break down and decay.
When I first came to the realization that that my life has been essentially no more than one long dream, that by some measure I'm not even real, at first I felt a deep sense of sadness. But when I think about it now, everything makes sense to me. I'm a being who simply should not be, an impermanent, embodied expression of the universe who believes he's an individual. I'm nothing given a body, will, and mind, a creature who can look upon it's own end and only see itself. I'm supposed to work so all the others like me can keep repairing and replicating themselves, keep continuing the process without ever really asking themselves why. To be frank, I'm convinced that reproducing, creating another human, has to be one of the cruelest acts a person can do to someone else. To make them go through all that effort, all that pain just to discover that it's totally futile.
I don't really know where I'm going with this, however I just wanted to share my thoughts. This stuff doesn't really bother me in the same way anymore, but it's nice to be able to talk post about it here I think. I suppose the only lingering feeling towards all this is just the frustration with the fact that I'm alive, that my parents created me. Everyday when I awaken, I wish I could've stayed asleep forever, it genuinely feels a lot better than awareness. The nice thing about accepting my nature is that I don't have to feel so attached to things now, letting go of things still feels sad, but it's not so bad anymore.
When I first came to the realization that that my life has been essentially no more than one long dream, that by some measure I'm not even real, at first I felt a deep sense of sadness. But when I think about it now, everything makes sense to me. I'm a being who simply should not be, an impermanent, embodied expression of the universe who believes he's an individual. I'm nothing given a body, will, and mind, a creature who can look upon it's own end and only see itself. I'm supposed to work so all the others like me can keep repairing and replicating themselves, keep continuing the process without ever really asking themselves why. To be frank, I'm convinced that reproducing, creating another human, has to be one of the cruelest acts a person can do to someone else. To make them go through all that effort, all that pain just to discover that it's totally futile.
I don't really know where I'm going with this, however I just wanted to share my thoughts. This stuff doesn't really bother me in the same way anymore, but it's nice to be able to talk post about it here I think. I suppose the only lingering feeling towards all this is just the frustration with the fact that I'm alive, that my parents created me. Everyday when I awaken, I wish I could've stayed asleep forever, it genuinely feels a lot better than awareness. The nice thing about accepting my nature is that I don't have to feel so attached to things now, letting go of things still feels sad, but it's not so bad anymore.
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