So Be It

Sometimes, I wonder how I will ever survive the endlessly painful course of life. It often feels like the bad times are constant, times of grief, sadness, loss, and anger, and the good times are few and far between. Life is so difficult, yet I know there will only be more to come. It seems that no matter what, I will always be chased by guilt and signs of my own ineptitude and privilege, of my shortcomings and meaningless frustration against all that the world is composed of.

The useless rage I feel is all consuming at times when I am weak, when the emotion is usually hiding the frustration and desperation that tinges my begging for answers that I know will never come. Why is life so ugly? I wonder if everyone feels this way, if some are simply better at ignoring it, if my own awareness of my state of being is a blessing or a curse. Does being unaware of the situation one is in make the situation any less potent or painful? I think not. 

Life is a net negative, the negatives outweigh the positives in terms of quantity. But I hope that the positives outweigh the negatives in terms of quality, that this must be the reason for humankind’s resilience against all that is the meaningless suffering we must endure as part of our penance for existence. Why must there be suffering as a foil to happiness, does the existence of pain truly heighten and enhance the experience of joy? I smile at strangers and say no worries when in reality all I do is worry, go about my days in a pattern of waking, socializing with people who won't really matter in the grand scheme of things, completing my duties and small tasks in an attempt to pave a good path for future me, and go to sleep, just to do it all over again in the morning. I stare out the window of my dining room blankly while wondering what I'm here for, read my old journals and wonder who the person writing them was, because it sure wasn't me, and wake up from senseless and illogical dreams that my mind conjured during the night. What is the subconscious? Before I can ponder what such images created by my own mind means, I jump out of bed to face my responsibilities, and deep down I know, it doesn't matter if I am here or not, life would go on and the world will continue to turn. I wonder if we are simply delusional, if we trick ourselves into thinking that life is worth living to maintain status quo.

Camus states in his famous novel, The Stranger, "But everybody knows life isn't worth living." This is one of the lines that truly stuck with me long after I read it. Although in the context of the novel, I understand that this is regarding Meursault facing his death and his thoughts about whether it matters if he dies now or later when facing his execution, I couldn't help but think about it in the context of my own life. It's true, life isn't worth living when viewed in a logical way, it's painful, nonsensical, ridiculous, and dumb. None of it makes any sense, why we suffer so much just for a glimmer of enjoyment in a future we cannot see. We have hope when life seems utterly hopeless. We continue to have hope in our peers, fellow humans, and even in a God that no one can truly know for sure exists. But I like to think that this is what constitutes the human experience, we all acknowledge and understand that life isn't worth living but continue to live it, experience it, forever searching for meaning, for something to click. I find that life is a bit easier if you view it with such a lens, that none of it is that serious because none of it really makes any sense anyways. But what do I know about life? 

There is so much more to come. So I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and try my best to take life day by day, waiting, waiting, waiting. For something to make sense, and if it never does, so be it, I'll be here anyways. 

March 16, 2023