I have no story

by Anonymous

Nothing is really wrong with anything. Not the world, maybe myself, but...

To me it all means nothing. Why try when death will come and clean away your efforts from the memory of the world anyway? Like scratchings on the beach sand, a wave will soon come and wash them away. It all means nothing to me. Maybe I'm just ungrateful. I feel I only complain and waste. Everyday I see the strain I put on my mother. I put strain on the environment. I cause this pain and I don't even want to be here to cause it. I get no enjoyment from this life. There is no happiness to me. All is too ephemeral. Why try in this struggle and strife? To go to college, to then get a job so then I can die.

Nothing. I have no story. Nothing really has happened to me. I have done nothing of any merit whatsoever. I am not smart, I am not pretty, I am not witty, nor am I kind. There is no redeeming virtue, however there is also no vice. Just nothing. The endless consumerism of this society is killing me. The never ending want. Where is the meaning? I admit to you I do not see it. I could struggle through this and end up happy, but for what? A few impulses in an organic mass. That's all I am. Even ignoring that, in the eyes of humanity I mean nothing. It is like the poem by Knox, why should we be proud? We are just doing what our mothers and fathers have done. In a different way, maybe, but the same thing. Advancement is an illusion. Look at the universe. Things change but nothing is ever different. So why try so hard?

But do not listen to me. You can make your meaning. We all make our own meaning. Like God, orphans, children, or whatever. But I just can't.