Straddled

I think there’s something wrong with me. I don’t fear death. I have so much to lose, yet I don’t fear my passing from this world. It really is rather strange as I would think that someone who has everything in life going for him would cling on to life like a starving man to morsel of bread. This “affliction” began since secondary school where I sought purpose in life, but found none. Although the search for the purpose has terminated prematurely, the fear of passing has not.

I enjoy life greatly. I love the sweet smell of the dew laden air of a glorious cloudy morning, where the chilly air feels as clean and as fresh as that of Cameron Highlands before they destroyed it with development. I love listening to the radio and hearing a particular upbeat song come up and makes me feel that everything around me is awesome, myself included. I love the thrill of speaking up in classes and saying something intelligent, adding value to the class and feeling so proud of myself that I actually did something useful. I love my evening runs where the world seems to be turning and existing just for me, the silence of the night where everyone is sleeping, cosy in their own homes and I seem to be the only soul crazy enough to run through the darkness. When I run, I feel free; free from thought, free from worry, free from shackles, free from rules. For that brief thirty minutes, it is just me and the night air, contemplating the universe and all its mysteries, enjoying that particular song that just came up on the radio, being at peace with the world. There is no doubt at all that I love life, and I love my life.

But at the same time, the purpose I have chosen for myself seems weak and insufficient to be the reason for my existence. If I was put here for a reason, I would like to have a greater purpose than just the mere conduit for the transfer of energy, or the carrier of the seed for the future of the species, or to be simply part of the carbon cycle. In the grand scheme of things, we are all dust on the windowsill of the universe, ready to be blown away by the nature’s schedule of the apocalypse. Human beings are such curious creatures. We build civilisations, further our body of knowledge of the world and its infinite puzzles, shaping it to meet our needs, and then proceed to shape ourselves to fit the world we have created. We see no need to adapt to the natural world, but mandate the conforming to the rules WE make. And this endless cycle of floundering in a world of our own design is just ludicrous. Like Sisyphus, our daily exercise in making a name for ourselves in this man-made world is ultimately a pursuit of futility. Why not instead, SIMPLIFY the world around us to ensure that EVERYONE has enough to live comfortably and stop with your tomes of borderline unreadable laws, your complex financial instruments and derivatives that no layperson can understand. Why do we do this to ourselves with TV, Internet, Fashion? Why keep up with the Joneses when that pursuit is ultimately a vicious circle to no end? Time and time again I try to return to my core, my reason for existence, but I really cannot see it, with all these distractions and mixed purposes clouding the path I want to walk.

If I were to return to my original purpose, it was to be remembered. A selfish but enduring purpose, to say the least. “So long as men can breathe and eyes can see, so long lives this, and this gives life to thee.” It might have another meaning, but this line allows me to remember that even when I’m long gone, as long as the history books remember me, I will forever live on in the memories of my children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and the descendants of strangers all around the world. And I used to strive towards this purpose, and all seems well. But recently, something changed within me. I don’t feel the need to be remembered anymore. If I were to fade away into nothingness tomorrow, I would have no regrets, no unfinished business, no wishes to wish, no goodbyes to say. I would just leave this world as quickly as I came, an attosecond on the infinity of time. What use is a legacy, when the people who remember you, are fleeting existences in the cosmic expanse of space and time. I’m just grasping at straws.

So, forget the purpose. Forget everything. What do I live for? I live to collect experiences. I live for me, not for some greater altruistic purpose that will change the destiny of the human race and impact the fate of the universe. Be realistic, I’m not that significant. Thus, in my brief attosecond of life, I wish to be happy. I wish to love someone so deeply and passionately that I can feel that my love for her can move galaxies. I wish that I will never have to make choices that will let myself down. I wish that I will always be useful to someone, to be always able to value add to the lives of the people around me. I wish to never be a burden, if not I would wish that I was dead. I do not want to be the person at the end of the road, wishing that he had lived. I do not want to be the person at the end of his life to desperately cling to life in the hope of enjoying a few seconds more. I will go quietly into that good night, but not without the beauty and glory of a life well lived.

Music, Love, Art, People, Conversation, Nature. I want to just take it all in and enjoy this beautiful beautiful world in its cacophonic symphony of synthetic and natural beauty. That never ending showdown of man and nature creating such paintings of misguided salvation with that ID driven psyche of mankind as the brush. Such tragic magnificence. I want front-row seats at the apocalypse, that spectacular supernova at the end of mankind’s time. The real experience of a life-time.