“Who are we? What is this? What is the purpose of all this?”
            This genre of moody thoughts has haunted me quite a lot recently, and has wormed its way into my mind and wrapped itself around each and every one of my thoughts and actions. It isn’t just common teenage rebellious musings, or maybe it is, I don’t really know (and neither do you, unless you know exactly what goes in other people’s minds).
            As children, we are carefree and naive, untainted by society's demands! expectations! reality!. We make up elaborate stories about trivial things and they become true. The world is a magical place where anything can happen and anything we dream of can happen and life is golden, even if we don’t know it yet. We believe with authority that we can dig all day and end up in China.
            But as we grow up, we learn that the center of the planet is made of molten lava and solid iron, and even if we were able to drill a straight tunnel through the planet, we would actually end up in the middle of the Indian Ocean. This realization is the first of many that taint our childhood dreams.
            As teenagers, we lose the naivety that made us believe in the unrealistic and the downright impossible. We lose the comforting simple-mindedness that allowed us to find joy in now-meaningless things like stuffed animals and digging to China. We learn that there are certain things that we aren’t good at, things that we may even be complete shit at, even though we were told otherwise by our teachers/parents/relatives/friends/authority figures in the past life known as ‘childhood’. Our dreams may never become reality because that’s how life works sometimes. The former gloriousness of the world has become gray and crumbling, and we see through the things we were once blind to. We look back on past events and realize the exact significance of them, crushed.
            We change so much throughout our lives.
            If people are such transient beings, it makes me wonder who exactly we are. I question what the meaning of life is every day, or if I even should be bothering to wonder what the meaning of life is, and just let it be, à la existentialism, but I am now also questioning if I will be questioning these things in 2 or 3 year’s time.
            Do we lose this sense of pointlessness as we grow older? Will I lose these occastional bouts of deep thoughts about life and the meaning (or lack of) of life? Do true adults not think about how pointless this all is? (You can’t sneak gold past Death, no matter how much you try) Do people forget or do they just figure out that they have to forget in order to become ‘successful’? (what is ‘success’ anyways?) Is that why we end up bending to society’s demands and end going to university/findajob/getmarried/buyahouse/havekids/die


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