Life is finite and brief.
We are alone.
Just a very small organism in an enormous world.
Is this all there is to life?
Is there not ultimate meaning?
Does life only have meaning if I give it meaning?
Does that meaning count for anything?
If we give it meaning, then why do we give it such negatives?
Why do we put such tight restrictions on people?
Why do we care if young people want to party?
Why do we disapprove of old people trying to hold onto life?
What difference does it make who someone wants to sleep with?
Why are we not honest?
Why enforce a set of rules that make people engage in hypocritical behaviors?
Why say things you really do not mean at all?
Why then can you still be so unthinking and uncaring with others?
In the end, I am just a tiny, insignificant organism floating alone within an uncaring, swarming hive of organisms, living in an absurd, arbitrary and capricious world where my life ultimately has little impact … and then I die.
Is this all there is?