It's not that it's a bad thing to want to live in spite of the fact that life is inherently meaningless, just that it's somewhat perverse. S'like... It's that there is no meaning to life, and the closest thing we could have to true meaning is impossible by virtue of the fact that we can never truly and completely understand one another. The myth of Sisyphus really is a perfect allegory for this situation: not only does the eternal pushing of the boulder up the hill accomplish nothing, but we desire to continue to do so, in spite of the fact that we are incapable of ever breaking the cycle.
We're drinking from an empty glass while dying of dehydration, yet we don't want to stop because an empty glass to drink from at least carries the fantasy of water, as opposed to nothing at all.
Hm, on another note, I was positing that the cycle would continue until the extinction of our species however many years-centuries-millenia-millionsofyears down the line, not until the end of the universe. Apologies if I was unclear. The point I was getting at was that, futile though it is, we as a species would continue to invest in the same delusions and desires until the last human consciousness ceases.
Perhaps I place too much value on understanding of others, but we are at the core social animals. What higher truth can we find than understanding another human entirely, to understand them as perfectly as we can understand ourselves if we cast aside the mental tools we use to disguise and ignore our flaws. I don't think that I can think of anything more quintessentially joyful than that. I worry about the constant of death because it removes human minds from the universe without their true voice ever being heard by another. I mourn the loss of every mind, soul, whatever you want to label the spark of awareness that defines us. I dread my own death because with it I lose not only my own consciousness but the hope of ever truly understanding another, futile though it may be.
It's rather sick, really, to have existence without meaning and still wish beyond anything else to continue it, existing purely for the sake of existing.
FD's going nihilistic!
Quick! Use kittens!
Anyways, I don't see anything bad about there not being some sort of ultimate meaning, goal or what have you. You can make up your own meanings, goals and so on.
"There can't possibly be any meaning in this world. But isn't that wonderful in its own right? Because if there isn't any, we can find our own."
That's the heart of my concern, though! Those meanings are only meaningful for as long as we live. At best, they may survive a few centuries longer if we are truly notable individuals whose works are thought on often, but even then a great deal of truth is lost with our death. It's an excellent way to distract oneself, certainly, but it is ultimately not enough, at least for me. I don't much care for the faffery of nihilism as it is commonly expressed; I'm trying to avoid mindless angst.
I've already moved past the "woe is me" shit a long while ago. It's that it doesn't matter if life sucks because that's only relevant in the context of your continued mental existence, and as soon as that and the ripples created by it end, that's it. Maybe there's something wrong with me, but I am incapable on a fundamental level of rationalizing away the concept of mortality, and I'm not certain that that's a bad thing. Uncomfortable, maybe, but I've never been one to choose easy ignorance over painful truth, at least not on matters this critical. :|
RELEVANT COMIC TIME
Hehe, maybe it is a tad presumptuous of me. But I'm only concerned with my own existence by extension, as a part of the larger issue of our inability to understand others. If I could believe that someone else could know me to the very bottom of my soul, and that that knowledge could be passed on, I would be much more willing to accept death on my own part, and nothing would bring me greater happiness than being able to understand others in the same fashion.
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Topic: Things that made you sad today thread. (Read 9423747 times)