I think back to when I was a kid, watching PBS kids on my parents old box TV, thinking about I was here. Wondering if there was more to life than watching TV and being around a stressful household.
As I look back on my life, I can see that younger me had some wisdom at a young age, I was more concerned about life than I was doing things for school, grades, jobs, careers, etc. I’m glad that I haven’t deviated from that way of thinking. I’ve really just deepened it over the years.
The more I’ve learned the less I’ve cared about most things people worry about. I like making things, I like thinking about things, the adrenaline rush of figuring out something I’d been trying to solve.
I think about my brother, he works at a power company as a lineman, he doesn’t really have much else. I asked him “if you had unlimited money, what would you choose to spend your time on?” He replied with confusion, I reiterated and he still had no idea.
People generally live for money and temporary things, then die having accomplished nothing that lasted, and they’re forgotten within a couple generations. This is the way of the world.
That’s not to say that a specific purpose exists, it’s more to say that it’s obvious that none exists. I’ve found my purpose in enjoyment of life itself, learning, thinking, experiencing. Others in my life experience from what they’re told they need to do. That isn’t to say that my perspective is somehow above someone else’s, just to say that maybe the pursuit of truth has always been the only objectively interesting way to spend your time.
Bullies
It may come as a surprise to you, but I was bullied heavily as a kid. So much so that I would cry every day after school in my room, wishing that I would die. I was chubby and still kind of am, so it made me an easy target.
I also had some cringe habits growing up, such as writing that I wanted to be a “Fredologist” when I grew up because I wanted to do whatever I wanted to do. Which I could’ve articulated better and in a less cringe way.
The End
I’m thinking today about how the world will end, in class today my professor mentioned briefly that the sun will devour the planet is a few million years. That made me start thinking about why we’re here. What experience really matters? Does collective experience matter?
The problem with existentialism is that there is no answer. There is no final solution, unlike religion. The dividing line. Some want the truth and others want the truth but can’t accept partial answers.
The earth will burn eventually, every single human accomplishment will eventually be null and as if it never happened. That is inevitable. So what matters? Maybe nothing. But probably this singular moment, and nothing else.