Featured Image source : Living and the Dead | The Existentialist

Hemu’s Art Blog

Life turns to a pile of shit, once you realize that there is really nothing that wouldn’t happen without you, nothing would stop or change if you would cease to exist. It’s weird, but the realization changes the perspectives significantly. In order to focus on what I intend to work for or to live for, I came to realize,” well, nothing I do is going to have a significant impact on the world. I’m no Einstein or Newton, so should I throw it all away and pseudo Carpe Diem my way towards proving this to be true? Would I be happy then? Or would I be less sad than I am now?”

It seems to be a lot of fancy words for a 20 year old, if I would’ve been 50, had a history of severe drug abuse and Rock n Roll (in which case I’d probably be dead already), sitting in a book store with these words and thoughts of mine in print, it’d bear more importance and would even help my family to support themselves from the money that I’d make from the book. Even in that case, I’d still think to myself, what was the purpose of life then? What did I achieve?

The questions that are screwing with me as of now are that, do I need to have a purpose? Can I not live like so many others around me whose definition of happy is the number of friends they have to validate them about the fancy clothes they wear, the fancy food they eat or the fancy phones they use, would that make me happy? It’s an opportunity cost for me to consider, I guess.

I’ve come to realize this, without a doubt, that as time progresses, as science reveals the undiscovered magnificence of the universe, man that used to attempt to seek comfort in ‘faith’ and ‘hope’ needs more inputs to either strengthen it through the regimen of religion mostly, or comes to a realization of complete redundancy, in which case he’d become a nihilist and continue living or in some unfortunate cases stop living their lives. Then there are some who lie somewhere in between, in the zone of understanding that they have no significant use in the universe, but hope to create something for themselves in order to satisfy themselves; the existentialists.

Now, I’ve never been lonely. I’ve been alone, I’ve been depressed, I’ve been suicidal, but never did I think that one more person could walk in that room and give one fuck about what’s bothering me. But in retrospective, why does it have to be that way? Why would anyone else keep their shit aside to give a fuck about what’s bothering me and help me get out of it. However, if you do find someone who does that, unconditionally, NEVER LET THEM GO!

But I’m too much of an egoist to give up and sit in the corner, injecting myself with heroine and waiting for the drug to overtake my physiology before I stop breathing and it’s all over. Which is why, I guess, I’d want to find my purpose, give up on the excuses, and feed my ego by having a purpose and kicking the universe in the balls which thinks it can continue to exist without me. Because, if Einstein and Newton thought that they didn’t matter, and gave up, the world would’ve been short of a lot of scientific miracles.

So, here’s to never stop trying, to finding and achieving your purpose, in a universe where your achievements, problems, complaints, life or death does not matter!