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By Lulu Date: 2003 Feb 01 Comment on this Work [[2003.02.01.12.51.16566]] |
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What, I ask, is the point of life? What is the point of love and hate and sorrow and joy? Why bother with any of it? You just going to die any way. You spend years upon years trying to suck up everything about life, you spend countless hours and "all nighters" so you can be sucessful. But then after every tear, every smile, every ounce of knowledge and every cent of money you have gained, you die. To die is to take everything you stand for, everything you know, everything you are and throw it into a endless pit of shit. I know no better way to describe it. So life, I am begining to think, is pointless. I have never felt such a feeling as this. Your sick of life, because of this prision everyone who has ever lived has made for you. They have shoved you into an uncertain way of living. You have to obtain your self, or you wont be the person everyone says your supose to be. Your sick of this pointless display of mortality called "life", yet your too afraid of what is behind this wall of security we live in to do anything about it. This is worse than hell. |