I feel very tired today, tired of the world around me, tired of people, I’m tired of talking to people and listening to their stories. Sometimes they are interesting, but sometimes I’d rather not know. Their lives are full of drama, bad choices or just bad luck.
A woman fights against the system for a man who has only one lung, yet he’s being denied a handicapped certificate. An 18-year-old dies in a car crash, his family’s left with few pictures of him from which they can’t even choose one to display at the funeral. There are so many people around me that have or had cancer, my husband alone has 3 cases in his family, none survived.
Day by day I see so much sadness around me… And it makes me feel guilty because I don’t have these dark, heavy clouds over my head, yet I get envious of those whose lives are better than mine. For example, 2 years ago, a week before Christmas, a friend of my boss came into the office and they talked about various things. At some point, my boss asked this guy about his holidays plans and he replied, with so much disappointment in his voice, that his trip to Egypt had to be cancelled and he’ll only go to Switzerland again. And it hit me, right in the back of my head, so hard that I began seeing stars. At the time, I couldn’t even afford having a drink at the pub in my own goddamn town, let alone go visit another country. And I realized in what extremities we live in, how life and circumstances divide us, put us in different categories.
I can’t even imagine what all those homeless people are going through, those who have no family, no friends, those who live off of what we’re throwing in the trash. We live eons apart from each other. Who’s to blame? We are constantly taught that we are the only ones in control over our lives, that we are the only ones who can either save us or doom us. Is that so? Aren’t we, most of the time, struggling against the tide? Is karma real? Because we’re unable to learn the lessons properly and release ourselves from this vicious cycle of suffering, are we doomed into reliving the same pain over and over again, life after life? Or are we thrown into existence randomly and we only have this one unique opportunity to be alive, but we waste it because we either got born in a less fortunate family or the circumstances couldn’t allow us to live a fulfilling life?
Is that fair?
Is life a programmed algorithm or a random one?
It all gets down to what you choose to believe in. But it is only a choice, not the truth. Because there are so many theories about existence, so many religions and ideologies, we cannot know the truth for sure. Are we just biological machines? Are we just faith’s pawns? Are we more than that? Did we create the image of the soul only to fill this void inside ourselves, this sensation that we are incomplete? Did we create the image of gods because we couldn’t find a reason for our existence or explanation for everything that happens around us?
If this our only chance to be alive, why do we waste it and spend our time meaninglessly? Also, if we are randomly born and there’s no real reason for nothing, why do we live at all?