In all fairness, this is just a general question. I’m not being spiteful, I’m not being happy-go-lucky, perhaps a touch apathetic, but nothing more. My question is this.
Why is it important to live? More specifically, why is one individual life supposedly important when there are more than 7 billion of us?
Honestly, if you were to die right now, the world would keep spinning, and life would continue. Those who knew you would weep for you, and we would miss you, but life would go on. So really, why is it so important to make sure someone does not die? Why are people more worried about the death of a king who never did anything than the death of the 25 000 children alone that die of starvation? One every 3.47 seconds. One child every three and a half seconds, and nobody cares. Whereas $1 is $20 in another country, and in that other country it only costs $1 to save a child’s life, most of us do nothing. I do nothing. I can’t spare 5 cents to save a child.
Honest to God, what’s stopping me from selling everything and giving it to the people who really need it? I don’t need anything in my life, because compared to the rest of the world, I will not make all that much of a dent. If I was the next Hitler, sure, I’d get some attention, but really? Life isn’t worth it. I wouldn’t mind death, because nobody else would mind all that much. So long as someone remembered my name, I would be happy that I’ve made something of an imprint of myself on the Earth. But really? It wouldn’t matter.
I guess in a way, life has no meaning. You live, you die, someone else lives and remembers you, and they die. We live to die, and though our population is forever growing, there will come a time when none of us will live. The sun will explode at the very least, swallowing us in a black hole with massive catastrophic destruction that will eliminate every trace of our existence or something along the lines several million years from now. I don’t think humanity is willing to wait that long to meet their own destruction- they’ve certainly hurried the process a long a bit by trashing the environment and letting poverty flourish. Nevermind. Everyone will die sooner or later, in theory, and nothing will matter. Macbeth said it well.
"Out, out brief candle! Life is but a walking shadow, a lowly player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more." Something along the lines of that. It ends with "signifying nothing." Really, it’s rather strange we’re all caught up with unfinished homework or not having enough money to go on holiday once a year. If life really does have any meaning, you may as well make it yourself by ensuring everyone has a good time. Be kind.
Captain, if you’re out there, you told me you knew the meaning of life. I could use a little help here.
If you had until midnight, this very day, before you met death’s door, what would you do? Honestly. Don’t pretend, don’t imagine or fantasize, visualise. You’re going to die in a number of hours. What do you do?
When you face death, your view on life becomes so different, because you do not live to see the morrow. You don’t have the face the consequences, or likewise, you cannot stay to relish the results of your actions. Either way, what would you do?
As a side note, I had the most curious experience last night/this morning. Rather, I observed the most curious experience last night/this morning. At 11pm or so, I woke up after receiving a call from my darling. Unfortunately, I had fallen asleep at 8:30 whilst waiting for 8:45 to come when she asked me to call. Alas, in the warmth of my bed, and with something soft and cuddly in my arms (pillow- God bless), subconsciousness came all too quickly. Nonetheless, groggily I crawled out of bed to answer my phone, barely understanding anything that she said, or I replied, and stumbled back in to bed. Two hours later, for I had checked the clock, the most hellish racket awoke me once more.
"I’LL FUCKING KILL THAT BASTARD!" I had enough strength to open my eyes and wonder if His Lordship (my brother) was going to murder me before closing them again.
"HE STOLE MY ABYSMAL WHIP![at least that’s what it sounded like] Everyone get their FUCKING asses up there and FUCKING kill that fucker!" Huh? Oh… Right… RuneScape. Poor Eugene… [and no, he wasn’t talking to his computer. It was more likely he was talking in Team Speak- and internet program that allows you to talk to all participants in the room you are in. In his case, it was his friends in the game]
"I’ll nail his tight little ass! Mother FUCKER!" He must have gotten a whip somehow… those things were worth millions. [4.4M to be exact]
"He fucking killed me and took my whip! Everyone get up there and KILL him! Backstabbing son of a bitch!" Guess it was someone in the clan. He’d have to be pretty strong to take down a level 102…
Footsteps. Booming, raging, thundering footsteps made their angry path through the house. God help anything stupid enough to get in the way of an angry furious anda. With what concentration I could muster, I wondered if he was looking for the phone to call Wildflame and yell at him. Hm… phone… Oh, wait. Yeah, heh heh. That was in my room. Hm… If he was looking for it, that meant… If I had the energy, I would have groaned. He was coming to kill me and take the phone. Maybe if I pretended I was asleep…
An hour or so later, he closed the door and the light flooding the house was dimmed. I tried my hardest to fall to sleep, lying on my back, my side, my back again, my side again, shifting my grip on the pillow, drinking water, groaning, but it just wasn’t working. With considerable effort, I literally dragged myself out of bed, closed the door, and barely crawled back under the covers. My last conscious thoughts were,
"This is the last time I sleep with the door open," and "Poor Eugene… he’s going to kill someone in the morning… heh, I’d better go check on him when I wake up…" Had I been awake enough to realise the consequences of that sentence, I would have lived to see the morrow. I love my brother.
I have come to yet another conclusion. I am not a water spirit (demon).
Water is evil. Water is cold. Water is wet. It’s surrounding, it’s smothering, it’s intoxicating, it’s everywhere, it’s bleak, it’s numbing, it’s hell! Er… in an anti-flame kind of way. Standing in front of a swimming pool and thinking about having to get in, whilst feeling an icy breeze and the shimmering of the ripples, it’s almost unbearably unnerving. And the cold… oh heavens, the cold… Shivering uncontrollably after a few minutes, and then completely helpless when I got out.
EDIT: Hey, all I need is some body heat, some friction, some chemistry yo? We’ll be fine if you let me cuddle you every few minutes. And if we have a hot shower together later =D