The Thinking Cap: a collection of essays

Finding Purpose in Futility

     What are you doing? This question of and in itself provides us with an abundance of options we can use to answer it. We could be breathing, drinking coffee, thinking, sitting, obviously reading. If you're using the Wattpad App then you're probably grasping your phone in your hands. And etcetra, etcetra. What's my point? Just to illustrate that at any singular moment we are doing any number of things, often at once.  Now my real question is this: why? You're obviously doing something, which for convenience and understanding we will embody any and all possible actions that you can take as "living".  So we've established that you are in fact living. But why is that? Now before we delve any deeper, I'm no epistemophile, or scholar, I'm barely a philosopher. Most might just call me a moody teenager trying to make sense of the world and my place in it. They probably wouldn't be wrong, but hey, you're the reader and I'll leave that to you to decide for yourself. Now let us digress from that digression, and get back to topic at hand, shall we?

     You are living and continue to live, but why do you continue to live? Why not call it quits? Would the world really be affected all that badly? I certainly wouldn't bat an eye. Nothing personal, I just don't know you. But what about the people who do know me? Well obviously they'd be affected in some way because the event would indirectly involve them, through them knowing you. However, they'd eventually get over it through either the fifth stage of grief, acceptance; or the final stage of life, death. Another quick digression. This essay is not by any means meant to encourage suicide. Suicide is just one of the brushes being used to paint a bigger picture. Well what is this bigger picture? Simply that life, and the continuation of it, is meaningless. At least in its "raw" state. Life by itself has no meaning, no purpose, and is the embodiment of futility. However, it's not inherently meaningless, it just can't derive meaning on its own. Life derives its meaning from us. Both as individuals as well as a collective. We try to derive meaning in life through many outlets; be it religion, animals, people, or even those who are to come after us. And any number of other possibilities.
     However, why is it so important for us to find meaning in life, a purpose in futility? There are many reasons why we find it necessary for our lives to have meaning. But the reason of all reasons is simply survival. As Camus said, "the true meaning of life is that which keeps you from killing yourself." I honestly couldn't care less how, why, or what is keeping you alive. That's not why I wrote this. Nor was it to convince you to adopt my way of thinking. Simply, I wrote this to express where my way of thinking is at this point in time. We need to find purpose to keep us alive. But why is it we desire to stay alive? Why does non existence scare us? Well that's a topic for another time. To summarize,  life is meaningless, we need meaning to stay alive, and meaning is born through our fear of death. Thanks for reading, and until next time, keep thinking, keep asking, and don't shy away from the questions nobody wants to ask or the answers no one wants to give.