When I was 6, I'd cry every time I'd realize I'd die. I would watch out the windowpane and cry over each fallen leaf and each person that could walk by and disappear nearby - I would never see them again. I had been terrified by loss of life not because I'd perish, but because the rest would. Everything were temporary - the wedding cake, the school, the computer animation movie, daddy's working day and granny's funerals. I would set you back my mum and hug her tightly and make sure that my hug was better than any death on earth, since it was filled with love.
When I got 16, I would laugh each time I'd realize I would die. Meaningless! I'd watch out the window and be fed up by the same fallen leaves and the same people walking by and disappearing nearby - all so similar and little or nothing new, nothing significant. Leaves replace leaves and people replace people and little or nothing changes, but everything dies. A person would replace me and life would continue. However, little or nothing would replace my mom, because she gave me LIFE. So I would set you back my mum and hug her tightly and make certain that my hug was more robust than any loss of life on earth, because it was filled with life.
Now, I just realize I'll perish. It's neither unhappy, nor funny, it simply is. "The meaning of life is so it puts a stop to. " (Franz Kafka) Death is what offers meaning alive. Hence, the essence and purpose of life is the living. So after i realize I'll perish, I live
"Will life have so this means in any way?" argues the skeptic. Life therefore, taken independently, ripped off any context, has not. It starts off, it ends, and then it starts off again. Life is a pattern of origins and endings, champagnes and funerals, repetitions and meaninglessness'. It is infinite and thus it is boring. Anything that appears in the course of life, vanishes. Life is an alternation of little particular lives that happen and evaporate - the same kind of song, performed over and over again, but by different singers. It is the only 1 eternal thing, and it is lonesome, which is blank, and it is hollow.
However, my life, your life, anybody's life, has only one starting and one closing and everything that happens once won't happen again, since it is finite. A first kiss is merely once first, a great publication is merely once so intensely great, the first bite is only once so virginally tasty and everything feels so excellent that it is worth living. Feelings will be the only possession that accompanies one from womb to tomb and what's beyond it doesn't matter because all that's beyond life. Emotions are life because there are nothing after. Is there?
Death intensifies feelings. The transiency of life infects desperation - the desperation to manage to love, sleep, dance, eat and see; the desperation to feel and so - live. The pressure of a finish provokes someone to fill up life with power. Each one's strength is the collaborative result of aspirations and is in love with one "invents" in one's own life. Understanding that all will come to a finish incites the exploration and cherishing of everything that precedes it. After all, this is the only chance. Just like a passionate vacationer who is frenetically walking around and visiting and photographing all the places he may possibly reach during his previous day of stay in a definite location, in fear never to see them ever again, so is (and really should be) the person during his long anticipation of fatality.
"Why is this THE meaning?" the skeptic continues. "When are you impatient about the day to come so when are you not?" I'd ask him. The expectation of great emotions is what steps us onward and their creation is our only capability. We can't stand music, we like the feelings it sets off, neither do we love or hate people, but the range of feelings they make us go though. Delivery, matrimony, food, cinematography, death, traveling are not facts, but rather an anthology of feelings we live them through. "When we are motivated by goals that have deep interpretation, by dreams that require completion, by genuine love that needs expressing - then we truly live life. " (Greg Anderson) Life is one big feeling and death is the only indifference - most challenging one.
Were there no fatality, life would've been absolutely meaningless. Eternity aspires to little or nothing and has no stopping point, thus it is completely pointless. Eternity has no issue, no climax and no timeline whatsoever. Still, death comes as the stopping for walking and being, adding depth and love to just how. The paradox of loss of life - certain and yet unforeseen - is the adrenaline of the whole existence which moves the blood in the vine of life. The anxious presence of fatality above life hurries visitors to feel and create emotions in others. Death makes people actually live. Fatality isn't that bad, in the end.
There is not a meaning and purpose of life other than the one you feel. A couple of no feelings before and after life. Hence, that which does not make you feel is a waste products and everything else is life itself. Pursue feelings because death is attracting near and you will possibly not manage to live. Fatality is neither unhappy, nor funny, it simply is. Its certainty should wake you up and get going. A life not resided is a waste material of the World whose interpretation are emotions, too. Hug life tightly and be sure your hug is more robust than any death on earth, because it's filled up with emotions.
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