To say life is meaningless would mean every living organism exalts no purpose in this world. Even as a pessimistic nihilist I believe that ideology is completely false, speaking from a realistic standpoint.

Even if one’s only meaning is to live, to exist, that is still such “purpose.” Not fitting a mold of society’s preconceptions does not constitute “zero worth.”

For some, our only purpose is to exist, to search for happiness in this wasteland of greed and drone-like utopian routine; to minimize the pain through the pleasure of booze, pharmaceuticals and hedonistic satisfactions; to search for freedoms through autonomous routes and through the simple pleasures of one’s own two feet; to treat each day as one’s last and to “live” through new experiences.

After all, this life is but an ephermal flower and sometimes it’s most precious moments are not in the stones money can buy, but the gems we find along the way, the love that sweeps us to the heavens like a blossoming flower, or the thrills and fears that push the limit of mankind to do extraordinary feats.

No one strives for a stationary life, not indifferent than any other day; they succumb to comfort and miss out on life itself, not cherishing all it has to offer in its blissful youth before it’s brevity ends.

Even without much “purpose” at least I have the freewill to find it, striving each day to keep searching through the many landscapes and I say this in the most humble way.  For I know less of life with each passing day, other than time is a human concept in itself, and the only god is the Earth.

She has proven our time here is finite through the  friends and family I hold in only my heart, their fading memories, their smiles and what once was…

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