Just My Soul Responding.

Chapter III: An Existentialist Soul Searching For Meaning.

It is 5:30 in the morning, I wore my vintage AC/DC shirt, I changed to my sweatpants, and I laced up my running shoes and went out. I took the keys of the house and put Death's album Spiritual Healing on repeat. The voice in my head was right; I listen to really old music. It feels like I have not ran in years. Questions started to come down in my mind like a waterfall.

'Sometimes the world doesn't make sense to me. I mean let us start with the fact that we are all living on a floating dying rock and we are only alive thanks to that fireball in the sky. Trillions of micro-organisms that we cannot see with our naked eye live in and on our bodies. People are able to communicate with each other thanks to language that they write, hear from others and say with their mouths. We can understand each other thanks to our brain's ability to decipher words, thanks to sound waves that we make with our mouths and when opening that lower part of our faces that we use to consume food, water and cigarettes.'

'There are by the way other various uses to the last part that you have mentioned. But let us not makes this gross; the sun is only rising.'

'God apparently we suffer from dirty mind as well! Well, we speak English of course because of a little group of violent people that were good at boats and colonizing the weak, that love a little old lady that wears a piece of metal on her head from time to time. We speak Arabic as well because of the Islamic conquest that came from the Arabian Peninsula. However, even now at present times, it does not get better at all from climate change, nuclear arms, mass surveillance, poverty, global pandemics to the awful ways we treat each other. We not only come from a capitalistic society that I fear that it is unsustainable but I'm also actively participating in playing the game, I have my own goals and ambitions to climb this pathetic social ladder and live a better life, whatever that means anyway.'

'Damn man! You are getting busy early in this morning. It is only 6 a.m. enjoy the sun, relax and just have fun already. Can't you enjoy something for once?'

'Hmm, I am talking here, do you mind? Oh! I'm also glad you brought that up, because we will circle back and come back to that.'

'I walked straight into that one, didn't I?'

'As I was saying, I was about to talk about money, you ruined my train of thoughts dude. Anyways, I think most of us know that at some level that money doesn't buy happiness, or does it? How many times have we heard that one, right? Yet it still plays a major role in some if not all of our decisions. It feels that my parent lived in a different world, and my grandparents lived in an alternate universe. I see and feel that there is massive inconsistencies and differences between these worlds that it is hard to know what to believe anymore, and it is even harder to know which direction is the right one. Whatever ''right'' means. I look around and I found us or technically me or should I say the concepts that I have of me, which is nothing more than ideas I built about who I am. I found out that I get upset or offended when someone threatens my values or anything that I identify myself with. Which all of this feels so juvenile, I mean people are going to say whatever the hell they want to say anyway, and I am one of them. Yet my whole world is still built around this silly concept. I am a slave driven by my biology and my programing to seek food, shelter and sex. Everything seems so important yet in a hundred years or even less if people find out who I am really I will be a pile of dust. Sometimes I get hanged up with a simple question: what is the fucking point anyway? I don't know any answers of these thousand questions I have.'

'I struggled all my life to find meaning to all of this, to my life and to the choices I make but now since I am taking this journey of finding answers I have to address the fundamental thing of my depressed nihilistic view. With all honesty, you know I haven't enjoyed doing something in a very long time. I find this feeling puzzling, some people call it emptiness some people like me don't even know what to call it. And yeah, it is a feeling this emptiness. But it is not quite that. This feeling has been haunting me for a long time now. I learned how to cope up with it and fake it. Nevertheless, I feel this is the time to address it fully. All the activities I normally enjoyed are no longer enjoyable. I have zero interest in going out with friends, or participate in activities. I feel this unwillingness to do the things I love, not that I have found any yet but still. I thought about it for a long time, and it has been two years now. I really think I suffer from Anhedonia. This inability to experience pleasure from the activities that were enjoyable once. I lost that passion of perusing things. I lost that fire to enjoy.'