I Don't Know.
I don't normally post twice in the same day. I don't know if I ever have before. I was already in a wierd mood, but when someone asked me today, "What is our purpose here? Why are we here? What are we supposed to do?" I felt my brain twitch.
My immediate answer to his question was, "Nothing." We're not supposed to do anything in order to make life purposeful. "We don't have a purpose," I said.
"We have to have some reason for being here," to which I replied, "Do we? Or is it just you?"
"No, that's wrong, man. That can't be true." All I said in response was that I've lived this long without a purpose, and I'd say I turned out alright, for the most part.
"That's not a good enough answer for me, dude."
I stopped talking to him. But my mind kept thinking. I've been thinking about it all day. My skull finally was full, and I didn't have space anymore to form a complete thought. I went for a walk, and it was the best thing I've done all day.
Did you know that the bushes by the rear entrance to Berkey Hall are in full bloom, and the fragrance of their flowers make you stop, walk up to them, and smell them?
Did you know that somebody lost a white t-shirt behind the gym downtown? (Maybe a weary kid who forgot to zip his backpack up, or maybe a drunk-ass guy felt like taking his shirt off at that moment he was walking by.) Did you know that from the right angle, the doors into the side of the Music Practice building look to positively glow? Or that if you're walking past the back of the Union, you can hear and understand conversation carried by people sitting on the ledge? Or how insignificant everything looks from up top of the parking structure catty-corner to Starbucks? Did you know that when you play with the knobs on the pipes behind Starbucks, nothing happens, as far as I can see? Did you know that one of the tasks that's part of the job description for working at Pinball Pete's is to go around with a metal scraper, and get up all the gum stuck to the floor? Did you know that a pebble thrown with force at the other riverbank makes a softer-sounding splash as when you just drop it in the water in front of you?
Someone had left a chair in the courtyard between Mason and Abbot. I picked it up and leaned it against a tree. There I sat for over half-an-hour, after walking around for at least an hour. My brain felt less full. Then I began to think more about the question I was asked.
There is nothing set in stone that dictates what we must do in order to have what we could call a satisfying existence.
It's a true Ouroboros. Life is the purpose of life. Our existence justifies itself.
No one can convince me that I am meant to do anything. I am not meant to be happy, or sad, or successful. There's only one thing we're meant to be:
Alive.
Everything else is what makes life worth being alive for, and everything changes.
So, no. I'm not wrong. Maybe I'm not right, either, but fuck it.
There's no purpose to life, except to take in everything that happens while we're alive.
Why are we here? We just are.
And,"What are we supposed to do?" is the wrong way to ask that question. It should be:
What do I think I should do?
