I watched the film Up recently.
I could not help but cry.
The dreams he had of adventure, the love for his wife. Both gone.
It’s tragic, that our dreams don’t come true. That love never lasts.
I felt as he did, the sense of loss, despair, hurt.
Even though I have never been in love. I felt his pain.
Dreams not fulfilled, love that refused to die, but the object of affection is gone.
To have someone that means so much to you, that you’re not sure you can go on without them. Yet people say you should, rubbish. You say to your lover you can’t live without them. Then when they die what do you do when they pass on? Continue, love another. Giving lie to that promise.
What hypocrites, what liars
Life seems seems so ….. pointless. Nothing to hold onto, nothing certain. We arrive, we live we pass on. Death terrifies me.
All those ideas, religion, about what lies beyond. They are nothing! Just speculation, they know nothing.
Helping others, what’s the point. They to will pass on. Nothing remains.
Everything turns to dust.
All those achievements, dreams, deeds, memories, everything will one day be gone, forgotten.
Sometimes I feel it would be better to be nothing. Better to end it all.
Am I wrong here? To try and define life, to find the truth of it. To seek permanence.
How dare I! To presume to think that I could find the truth of existence. I don’t, at least no longer believe in such things. There is no objective truth, no God, no meaning. Life is pointless, meaningless with no intrinsic value.
Such presumption to think there is. Yet despite the fear, the meaningless.
A part of me cannot give up. I still remain.
Hope. It still burns inside me. To be more, be great, be valued. To have it all mean something.
Perhaps that’s what nobility really is. An attitude that can only exist as opposing tragedy. The Greeks perhaps knew this. Noble death, where art though?
Damnation, to be in such torment!
We are cursed. Given life but with no meaning. So we dangle, wriggling, above the abyss.
Desperate to live, to know why, yet fate decides we always fail. A tragedy is our lot. To know despite all our effort it will all be dust.
What am I to do?
What I see around me, I see as it’s truth. One day it will be gone. Everything is tinged with tragedy. Nothing seems worth doing.
So I pretend I don’t see this. See the emptiness, the impermanence.
Do I live, and cling to hope? Or loose myself in the baubles of existence. The flashing colours, the chitter chatter, the grinding gears? The flotsam and jetsam. The fake smiles, insincere words, hollow gestures? The banality and trivialities that see around me disgust me, yet entertain me.
Is this it? All there is?
I’m so afraid, and so alone in my desperation. So cold and desolate.
Once again, perhaps I’m wrong, full of crap.
Maybe it’s just a question of living of life of authenticity. No longer hiding who you are. Taking this existence and squeezing what you can out if it. Not the superficial trappings that make me question humanity. Like the headlines for Black Friday shopping.
But filling life as much as you can with meaning and connection, the simple things. Leaving the rest to where it perhaps it belongs. In the jurisdiction of the universe itself.
So perhaps I should stop grasping for things that lie beyond what one human life can understand. Though I have a sinking feeling that I will.
Addendum: The morning after the night before.
It’s amazing how a new morning can change your mood. The darkness can lead us to feel so alone.
Our first duty is to the living but the memories of those who have left us.
That’s the message of the film I feel.
Further still since our ideas about reality can be wrong. The idea that life is meaningless is perhaps also wrong. Maybe there is some purpose to our lives beyond what we can pick up.
So we are left with the uncertainty that we just don’t know.
Living with that doubt is what we all must face.
We need to give up in the fanciful dreams of childhood and create newer better dreams of adulthood. Dreams that we could achieve if we really want them and work hard enough.
So choose life, choose dreams, and love. Because fear is not a good enough reason to avoid them.
He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much;
Who has enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children;
Who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;
Who has never lacked appreciation of Earth’s beauty or failed to express it;
Who has left the world better than he found it,
Whether an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul;
Who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had;
Whose life was an inspiration;
Whose memory a benediction.
– Elisabeth-Anne “Bessie” Anderson Stanley
I’ve gone through pretty much the exact same thought process, understanding that life (or at least, being self aware) is both a gift and a curse. Objectively speaking, nothing has meaning. It just is. I guess as humans, we have to find or create meaning within the small confines of ourselves. Seems like this is easier for some than others. Certainly, constructing meaning and a purpose for ourselves, consciously or subconsciously is the only way to feel happy and fulfilled.
Thanks Ben. To true what you say. We create our own meaning, but that process is filled with uncertainty as struggle.