I realized today that I am a hypocrite.
For all that I believe that life has no true purpose, and that we are simply an inevitable accident of the laws of physics that govern an infinite universe which existed long before we ever did and will continue to exist long after we won't, I want there to be a purpose. Perhaps not destiny, not a predefined purpose, but I'd like for there to have been some point to my existence. In short, when all's dead and done, I'd like to have mattered.
Have you ever tried writing your own obituary? I did after watching this video on change. And it was depressing. Not because thinking about dying is depressing...after all, death is inevitable (or is it?), but because it was an incredibly boring read.
I would like to have influenced a generation, started a revolution, or even just entertained a bunch of people...just mattered in some way, made a difference.
Someone once asked me why I write, maybe this is why. Maybe this is just my shout out demanding the universe notice me (yes, I recently read The Fault In our Stars...an excellent read, but one that could have you thinking of depressing things such as your own obit). I guess I just want to be remembered. I don't even know why: it's not like I'd care once I'm dead. And yet, today and now, it does matter to me.
Here's hoping I either do something spectacular, or that I outgrow this feeling.
“I am convinced that it is not the fear of death, of our lives ending that haunts our sleep so much as the fear... that as far as the world is concerned, we might as well never have lived.” ― Harold S. Kushner
Edit: Just read that this conflict between there being no meaning in life and our quest to try and find one nonetheless is called Absurdism...has a nice ring to it, don't you think?