Life Itself

Why me? Why not me?

The truth is, you don’t always get what you want in life. Yet we have to live life believing that we may someday regardless of if it will be true or not. That is hope, right?

The fact is, that life itself is not merciful. It doesn’t care how close to death you are. It doesn’t care that your tank is empty and you’re running on fumes. It doesn’t matter if that one thing that you wanted, you wanted because you needed it, and you never got it. It will let you walk in circles until you’re insane with frustration. The fact is, life does not respect itself enough to make sure that things go right for you. It doesn’t care if you think of it positively or not. The fact is, life always loses in this world. It will always lose. And it doesn’t care if you end up dying a slow and painful death.

Life doesn’t care if you’re someone who was lucky enough to have a tail wind, or someone who has to walk in gooey muck your entire life, every step a hellish challenge. It doesn’t care, and there is nothing you can do about it. You can try, you can fight, but you can’t save life. It doesn’t matter if you have to go through more crap than another. It doesn’t matter if someone gets that exclusive thing that you desperately want. It doesn’t care if you understand. It doesn’t care if it’s fair or not. It isn’t really concerned with justice or morality.

I guess this is all something I never understood until now. There was this expectation that life would get better. Maybe it won’t. Maybe it will. But you can’t be sure. Life isn’t comfortable. It isn’t safe. It isn’t ever perfect. If you hope, you may be disappointed. If you don’t hope, you might be surprised. So when people ask me, “Do you believe there is hope for you?” Is it worth believing in hope? Should I really be blamed if  decide to say “no”? Is it really such a disgrace to say “no”? Is “no” really the wrong answer? Maybe it’s the right one. Is it disgraceful to decide that you don’t want to fight for it anyway? Why do we respect life so much? After all that we know about life, why do we say that it deserves attention, that above all, it deserves to be fought for? Because we are part of it? And to say that it isn’t worth it, is to deny something within our being?

So when you think about someone committing suicide, and you feel shame for them and/or pass judgement on them, do you think maybe it’s because you are taking offense to the fact that that person did not value life, and you are life, and therefore, maybe unintentionally, they are saying you aren’t worth it. Do they see the truth? Or are they mentally ill? Is seeing the facts really mentally ill? Don’t you, in a sense, have to lie to yourself to want to remain alive? So why do it? Why live in denial? Why do people want to? When life itself does not hold up to the standard of morality that you cling to, why respect it enough to keep it going? Why fight? I don’t know. The quote I have at the top of my blog describes a certain action to be taken regarding life. How does one carry that through? And is it right to do so? Is it a failure to live in denial? Or a failure to deny life the breaths of itself that still exist?

It’s all basically just a really complicated way of saying, “Why is it okay that he didn’t love me? Why is he supposedly justified? Why does he get to choose? And why didn’t he choose me?”

And if he is a piece of life, and life has shown itself to not be worth it, then I guess he’s not worth the fuss. That solves that problem, but then why would anyone else be worth it either? If they aren’t worth aching over, what makes them worth living with? So why put effort into any kind of relationship at all? If there is no purpose to you, to them, if you have no destiny other than death, why bother? Why bother to question if you have no purpose? Why bother to know if you have the right answer then?

And if all of this is true, then why do I feel resentment, in denial, in pain? If this is just how it is, why do I have this sense that I deserved better? How did I come to question a reality that I was wired to be? How do I even have the ability to question it? How did this happen? How did I happen?

Why do I have to be here? If life is just a pleasure-less fight, then why? If you have to force it, then why? If no one in this world is worth suffering over, if no one is worth fighting for, then why do I have to suffer for myself? And if it’s true that you have to believe that you yourself are worth suffering for, but no one else is, and everyone else has to believe the same thing, isn’t that denial? Isn’t that lying?

Either I have to believe that I wasn’t worth suffering over, or that he was. And maybe he was. But I guess that means that everyone else is too. In which case, why does life seem to be based on picking favorites. If there is no distinguishing between worth, how do you choose? Why does there have to be rejection? If we are all worth it. If I am worth it, then why not me?

Why not me? I am life. Why me?