Who am I kidding? I’m always thinking. Ever the ruminant, in spite of the fact that I have one stomach instead of four. Lately, my philosophical leanings have been absurdist. Existence is curious and strange and largely pointless, so we should take it less seriously, no?
Except, I am still stuck in that need for purpose. If I do not have purpose, why do I remain here? How will I remain here? A knife that doesn’t cut will become rusty and blunt.
The younger version of myself had a more grandiose individualistic interpretation of purpose. Amass achievements, take over the world. But, the older I grow, the more I feel that true purpose lies not in the self alone but in community.
I want to be with my family, I want to nurture my friendships. Sure, ambition is nice, and I can still pursue my individual dreams, but they all pale in comparison to the thought of having my people with me, all the way through to the end.
Yes, life is meaningless. Let’s enjoy that meaninglessness together.
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