Part 2
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Where will I be in ten... twenty years? Will I be happy? Will I even be alive?
The instability of life scares me.
Not knowing if I'll be able to get a job, find a house, find someone to spend my time with. What if I'm alone? No money, no shelter, nothing. What then?
Yet even the certainties of life scare me.
I don't want my parents to die. I don't want my sisters to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to live either.
If existing is so painful then why do we exist? Why do we have the ability to unravel ourselves with our thoughts? The ability to harm ourselves through our own behaviour?
I wonder if cavemen sat up at night thinking the same things I do. Feeling as empty as I do in the day. I wonder if they felt the same instability as me?
Though if they did they surely wouldn't have survived.
What is the point in living?
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YOU ARE READING
~ HUMAN INTROSPECTION ~
Poetry~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~ A collection of poetry and philosophical questions made to question the relations and views we have of ourselves and others. I encourage readers to explore themselves and allow their thoughts to run unfiltered while reading. I hope...
