Need more friends with wings...

You know those nights where all you wanna do is lie there and be absorbed in something amazing... Music, television, a book, a movie, some amazingly sublime experience that carries your mind away from the tedious boredom of our sorry existance. Those nights where the last thing you want to be is you. Where everything is so intense you feel like screaming until your lungs give out and your soul melts away into glorious bliss...

I love those nights.

When you can find something to throw yourself into...

Otherwise everything seems... Shallow... Unfulfilling... Just makes the experience seem worse... It feels like nothing you can do will ever have meaning again. You begin to question the purpose of your existance. And that's always a grim question. You begin to realise that there isn't really a purpose. Or perhaps you knew that all along. It doesn't really matter. You sit there and wish your life was worth changing. That there was some reason to try and make things better. 

I hate those nights.

Some people find god, and use him as an excuse to keep on trying. They say "God loves me, and he wants me to be happy." I say that's taking the easy way out. Sure, you never have to feel alone again, but in doing so, you kill off any form of curiousity. It's nothing more then an escape. It's the equvalent of throwing a dice, declaring it landed on 6, and never ever looking at it. Only this is a dice with infinite sides.

So that leaves us with a problem. You have a question and no obvious escape route or answer. "What is the point of living?" The only thing that resembles an answer, is that living is a purpose in of itself. The only reason to live is to have the experience of living.

I hate these nights...

Circular logic. Everywhere. We live because we live. That isn't a reason. It's not an excuse. Sitting here, looking for something of purpose, i can find nothing in existance worth living for. So why do i continue to live? It's not because i fear death. That is a journey i look forward to making some day. Like a gate you always wondered what was behind, but where the gate only swings one way. So you put off exploring it until you've seen everything there is to see.

No, i don't fear death. I fear something much worse. I fear missing out on life. I fear the idea that no matter how bad it is today, it could get better tomorrow, even when i'm almost sure it can only ever get worse. That tiny fragment of chance that tomorrow could be the best day of my life. That's what scares me. That's why i keep living. If i could know my own future, i wouldn't need to experience it. I hope when i die, i get the chance to sit back and explode the infinite possible paths my life could have followed. Those points where i walked past someone in the street, and if i'd stopped to talk to them my whole life would be different. Just to experience every possible outcome of my life. That's what heaven would be to me.

Enough of this.

I think I'll go lose myself in something.

Farewell.