Thoughts On Things

Entry 23

Forgetfulness truly is the savior of man. I do not mean, necessarily, the forgetting of events or simple things like that. No, the forgetting of feelings. If, at any moment, I could recall any feeling I have had, I would surely be dead. Because the moment an ounce of guilt or self-hatred crawled into my mind, I would surely take it upon myself to recall every negative feeling to punish myself. I have often felt these intense emotions, and forgotten them the next day. Even if I can recall the thoughts, I cannot recall the feelings accompanying them in any important way. Of course, in certain cases people can recall certain feelings; and in those cases they are often unhappy. Thus, forgetfulness is salvation.

This mood I am in now is surely one necessary to forget. It is best described as hopelessness, or sadness I suppose, but I could call it a moment of more clarity. Do not get me wrong, this is nothing close to complete clarity. I still see through a foggy glass screen, as all living things do; however, I see a little more. Or, perhaps, I am just looking through a different, equally foggy and incorrect screen. Perhaps I am staring at a stain on this glass we look through. Nonetheless, I will expand on my thoughts. Thoughts that have already been expanded on by others. 

I currently struggle to see the meaning in life. I have not believed in any meaning in life since the day I was born, but now I truly struggle to believe in any. It all seems futile in the face of death, and makes me wonder why I should not just die now. Yet, of course, I live and write this down. So some part of me values life over death; whether this be some natural, instinctual part of me or some conscious part of me I am not sure; perhaps it is both. It gives birth to phrases like, "Well, you only have one life, why not live it to the fullest?" Yet is the burden of proof not on the one suggesting an idea? If I say another man is a murderer, it is my duty to prove he is, not his duty to prove he is not, though it may be in his best interests. So why live? Do not answer why not. Fun? Beauty? Fear? Love? All seem false in my current state, worthless. Though what meaning is there in truth anyway. We are no different from machines, reacting, our programming done by generations and generations of ancestors and by the environment; our programming be evolution. 

Is all of evolution done with the desire to live? At what point in evolution did we decide life is better than death? Is the valuing of life over death inherent with the existence of life? Yet suicide. Why does man seek death in some cases? Or is it the desire to not live, and the understanding that death is the only way of doing that? Does understanding kill?

Yet all our evolutionary traits are created for the purpose of living. Pleasure shows us what is good and beneficial. Fear shows us what is not. Along with disgust and contempt. Love makes reproduction even more desirable.

Why do we want to reproduce? It is a biological instinct of course, developed in most living things, before thought, without the presence of thought. But why? Why is it so important for us to have children? To pass along our genes? What care do we have for anything other than our own lives? Clearly we care greatly. Many are willing to sacrifice even their very lives for their children. Why? Why? Why? Why is it so important to us to pass along our genes? Are they some sort of consciousness themselves, seeking to be passed on in a desperate desire to prolong their lives? I do not understand at all. It is our whole reason for being, to reproduce, from a biological standpoint, the greatest standpoint of all, and yet I do not understand it at all. This confusion I hate and confound. How do I not understand even the purpose of my life? And how do I go on without even understanding it?

I forget, I suppose.

Good night.