I’m trying not to think today, trying not to ponder on the idea of ‘the point’ but I can’t help it. What is the point? A question that crosses my mind so often and sends me spiralling down a path in my thoughts that don’t lead to anywhere good. It’s so hard to come back from it too, my chest feels heavy, like its aching and crying inside, that’s the only way I can describe it. It’s been with me for a couple of days now and I’m trying to fight it, trying so hard because if I don’t I start to think. I stare out of the window like a man stood on the top of a mountain looking down and I watch.
That moment when the air around is cool and still, like the fresh breath of a new morning, when there are no real sounds, but the buzzing of one’s own mind. When the air is crisp and clear and hasn’t been polluted by the day’s events. When there is peace inside and the thoughts are as clear as the air around.
That is how it feels when I stare out of the window, but if I just turn to the left or the right, the rest of the world is awake and moving and I’m not. I’m standing so still in this moment wondering how it is that these people can go about their normal day and not see it the same way I do. Why don’t they realise that the petty fights they have, the race to work, the worry about the next bill mean nothing. Nothing at all, because in the end, after everything we do; we all die.
That thought leads me to that question; what’s the point? Why do we fight? Why do we do anything at all? Some people say it’s to be happy, but what’s the point in that? Maybe it’s to make a difference in the world, but again, what does that achieve? In reality, every reason and everything we do is insignificant and doesn’t matter. SO why are we here. Why am I here? Why do I live each day with his pain inside?
What is the point?