Why Am I Here

I do not know why—why I am here. I feel like a false hope. But I do not know if I am a false prophet. My goal was to inspire those who did not believe. But belief is not enough. The soul requires faith. The truth is that I lack confidence. I thought I could have faith for a long time but lost it with everything else. I failed because I did not see the future; I could not escape my past and all its horror. I am stuck in this endless cycle. I am aimless and living in a perpetual state of agony, all in the hope of truth. But how can I tell the truth if I am dishonest with my soul? If only I could have the faith to see past my pain and look forward to my future.

To my dismay, I predict the next day but forget the present. I wish to learn more, but I want knowledge of things I can not understand, not because it would better me but simply to say that I know. To whom am I trying to impress? In the end, there is only me. I wish that I could forget. I live in regret. I know that my wishes are on deaf ears. Because the only one who can make them come true is me. In the end, the only thing I have control over is time. This time, I will make things right. I keep going back, but this time, I will march forward to my death.

My friends dread the idea of death knocking at their door. But I am not like my peers. For I would gladly invite my guest in. Not in the wish for the truth brought in one’s death but for being kind. I genuinely believe that we have misinterpreted the meaning of death; we should appreciate it rather than run away from it. Instead of prolonging life, we should face our mortality head-on. Because if I understand death, then I am one step closer to loving my life.

I do not say this to promote Fatalism. I simply think there needs to be a greater understanding of life and death. Instead of the doctor feeling ashamed or emotionless about the death of a patient, they should have some sense of appreciation.

However, having this death wish may not be the road to the truth. How can we be sure that death is released? Or that anything of value indeed occurs after life? I spent a long time trying to contemplate the answers for myself. In two years, I concluded that there was nothing, but this is not Fatalism. Because in nothing, there is something. I am vague here on purpose. There is no word for what I am describing. \ A good analogy would be putting your luggage onto a belt to be taken away and processed. Your luggage is in transit, going from one state to another. It is this flowing nature where you cannot see your luggage, but you know it is somewhere.