Where do we go when we die? Why does time go by? Why is it why we ask all the time?
Wake up every morning and think about what you think. Yesterday, did you think you went to heaven or hell when you died? Has it changed? Today, do you believe that the souls of our divine go somewhere, anywhere you desire? Do you believe that once we live once, that is all? Philosophy. People who think constantly are philosophers. They see the world through various angles, and ponder the truth to the questions we ask.
When I wake up in the morning, I do not want to wake up. My philosophy of life is nothing more than a burden to be lugged around your shoulder until you are too frail—too weak—to carry on. So alone you sit, rocking, rocking in your chair, awaiting your place on your deathbed, for it to end. I do not believe in one specific answer. I believe there are multiple answers to everything, though everything is based off of opinion. I believe that the questions to love are based on opinion. To be an optimist and compare your answers to a pessimist, their philosophy on the topic at hand would be entirely different. The optimist would say that love is a beautiful thing, like a desirable rose that changes your world forever. While the pessimist would say that love is a bitter thing. “True the rose may be beautiful, but the thorns prick and stab.”
All day long, I think and think. I think about death and life and time. I do not know where death leads. But the more I think about it, the more curious I become. I wonder if we go someplace where someone is watching us and determining where to place us; if we get to choose the place we want to be; or if it is bleak. If we die, then is that it? Do our souls leave our bodies to die and whither like dehydrated plants? I wonder this constantly. I search and search, but nothing seems to quench the thirst for an absolute truth. It is because… there is no absolute truth.
Life is merely an opinion on how to live. “Live like there’s no tomorrow.” Is that really true? Your life may be over in the next few minutes, the next few hours, the next few days, months, years… But how is that determined? Can we honestly believe in fate or destiny? I do not believe so. I don’t think things happen for a reason, because there’s more than one outcome to each scenario that you experience in your lifetime. I feel that each experience can result by the choices you make, because of the intelligence you have. I don’t believe everything happens for a reason, because I believe that everything can be changed. You can’t take something back, but you can fix it.
When I think about where I am, I feel like I’m not really there. I feel as if though I’m just an observer, watching the environment and the species held within it. An outer-body experience. I feel as if though I don’t really exist—like I’m just coexisting with the air. I think sometimes that the people in my life are just figments. If I pretend they don’t exist, then maybe they will vanish like when you erase a drawing on a whiteboard. It’s a constant thought. I do not exist. I am not human. I am not in this world.
The infinite question in life is why. Why is the question I ask myself every day. Why is the reason I think. If there were no why, then why would I exist to think?
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