Life

Some nights I like to have deep, thought provoking conversations with myself. I tend to do this while in the shower until the water runs cold (this gives me approximately twenty minutes to figure my shit out).
So anyways, tonight I was thinking, “What is the point? What in the fuck is the point of life?”. Because with all do respect, unless we do something completely outstanding, does anything really matter?

I’m assuming that if I died tomorrow, I would be missed for maybe a year and then remembered until those in this lifetime are also gone. Harsh? Yes… but that’s honestly the truth. And that’s the truth for most of us.
Say you don’t have children, your belongings are disposed of or sold off when you die. Everything you worked your whole life for is auctioned off to some weirdo in Kentucky or something. Those knick-knacks and trinkets you worked so hard to collect… either garbage or the newest addition to Good-Will.
And unless you do something exceptional in life, you most likely won’t pass anything viable on to the next generation. I’ll tell you what… those dreams you had of being featured in a middle-school history book definitely won’t be fucking happening. The gold-plated statues and plaques carrying on your accomplishments will just frankly never exist.

I won’t have children, I won’t be featured in any history books, and most likely won’t pass anything viable on to the next generation. So why is life so stressful?

Tonight I think I’ve decided with myself that the end-goal of life is basically pointless. We’re all going out one way or another and eventually the Earth will just shit out and die too. However, I do believe that life is meant for three things: strong relationships, overall happiness, and bad-ass experiences (surviving life is obvious and doesn’t count for this list).
We have one life (unless you believe in reincarnation and that’s a whole other rant). Therefore, I believe we just need to pack in as much bull-shit as we can within the years we have and find some damn good people to share those experiences with. That’s what life is all about.

-Hal

Purposeful Survival

Sometimes I feel like life
is just some sick joke on all of us.


The purpose of humanity is to do one thing right?
We’re supposed to survive.
Yet here we are…
spending our entire fucking lives trying to do everything and anything
we can to make it to another day…
still knowing that we will eventually die.

But besides just surviving for however long we have…
I feel like everyone has a desire to leave some sort of mark
on this planet.
Maybe it’s children, relationships, ideas, music, art or just something miniscule
the next generation might have a use for or remember… anything at all.

And I don’t know about you,
but I have this deep desire to leave something behind
for this world after I’m gone…
to make my own mark.

I just worry that I won’t have enough time
to figure out what that mark is before I’m gone…

1/4 Life Crisis

So… I haven’t just written and vented for awhile.
Lately it’s been hitting me more and more that I need to make a decision with my life.
The decision being “kids”.

I keep questioning my purpose in the world. Am I really meant to procreate?
Or is being childless best for my mental and physical health?

Basically I’m having a fucking quarter-life crisis on the daily at this point and I’m terrified.

One part of me loves this independent, free, and mildly careless life. I mean shit… I’m free to travel, work, and enjoy life without any real commitments (And I kind of like that.)

Another part of me is craving some sort of purpose… some sort of mark to be left on this planet… a reason to be alive…

I guess right now I’m just hopeful that time/fate decides it for me (Because I apparently can’t decide 100% either way and it pisses me off).

If anyone gets to this point of the post… thank you for being here to read my thoughts. 🙂