I'd wish I could believe that things happen for a reason. I'd wish I could believe that the universe has its own plan and we're a part of it, and when things get ugly is because beautiful stuff is coming. But that is nonsense to me. Even if the universe was an entity making plans, we're way, way too small for it to even know of our existence. We ourselves never stop to think about the millions of unicellular organisms that live inside us. They're right there minding their own business until they die, and we don't even notice. So no, I don't believe that we're here with a purpose. Life is just a complex coincidence, and even if we humans get to do more than just breeding and dying, we are here to breed and die. It doesn't matter how well or badly you behave. You can die at one hundred and six having been a complete bastard all your life, or you can die at sixteen due to leukaemia when you have never done anything to deserve catching even a fucking cold.
