The inconsequential routine of life that runs itself into so many circles, constantly has me wondering if, maybe, I’m just nothing more than a doodle, drawn on some control-all pen. The fact that nothing really matters for all is pointless, simply by the fact that all is temporary is somehow accentuated by the realization that everything, and I mean everything, falls into a routine somewhere along the line, if not immediately after initialization. Enter human need to make all things be of some ultimate purpose, if only to make themselves seem less irrelevant. In other words, enter human arrogance. Somehow, we’ve come to the conclusion that by simply adding some purpose to all that we do will work to give purpose to our lives. This supposedly makes everything all that more meaningful. Yet, at the end of it all, nothing matters, still and again.
Sometimes, I wonder what it’d be like if we actually found out we were just a pointless doodle. But then again, that knowledge, like all other knowledge, would still remain pointless.
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