rk

If life is like a flame, and it ceases to exist when it is blown out... all the remains is the image burned into the eye... or the mind's eye of those that knew us. Like that image, the memory fades... and then dies with them. We effectively never existed, rendering our lives meaningless. We're born, we live, then we die, simple right? When those events happen seems irrelevant, so what does it matter what we do in life? Seek the unsustainable happiness clearly, it is our instinct. A state of permanent happiness cannot exist, happiness is not a finite thing. If we are happy, the feeling fades to contentment and then we seek it again. So where does that leave us? Seek an existence filled with contentment with spikes of happiness along the way? or at the very least hope for it... So that keeps our meaningless existence rolling on, instinct and hope, but in the end... we all attain the same level of nonexistence. It is impossible to regret anything if you don't exist.


P.S. Morals still gone.