Life is Unreal
Purging for years to find the self has left me even more lost than when I started. I can’t find a self, and I’m starting to believe one was never there. And for years I’ve felt detached, like an avatar in some virtual reality. I dress up this avatar, assign it traits, but it’s not real. Nothing feels real. Life is an exercise in escapism, but I don’t want to escape. I want to dive in head first and see reality.
For all my desperation and effort, life feels more and more like fantasy. We’re all acting out this cosmic script, under the delusion we’re more than just particles. I understand more than ever now how I am part of the universe, toiling about on a rock in space… an active participant, but my contributions are meaningless. The participation means nothing.
I want to feel connected, like I’m part of something and what I do matters. But I know nothing I do matters… and the human race would be better off with 50% less of us around.
No, i don’t want to die. I’ll die soon enough. When that day comes I’ll marvel at how quickly it all passed. So I’m in no rush. What I want are answers, and it is painfully crippling that the more I seek, the less it seems any answers will come.