The Delusion That We’re Going To Live Forever

Eventually, it will end.

Dear friend,

You and I have so much in common.

First, we’re both living inside a giant ball that is rotating in the middle of nowhere.

Second, we’re both going to die.

Sounds insane. I know it, you know it, your favorite celebrity knows it: Time is ticking away, and every day that passes is a day lost.

But who cares anyway?

We’re all deluded.

A Giant Meteorite Might As Well Crash The Earth Tomorrow.

Thankfully, this doesn’t happen too often.

So we take the idea of our future self as a given:

Ambitious people write bullet journals about what they’ll achieve in the next ten years.
Self-help junkies indulge in podcasts, hoping by the time they hit fifty, they’ll be wiser, healthier, and happier.
Romantic folks say things like: “I’ll love you forever.” As if forever was actually a thing.
Traveling nerds have already booked tickets in their minds, with convictions like: “Someday, I’m going to visit South Korea.”

Again, we’re all deluded.

Even those who tell others they’re deluded…they themselves are deluded. Next minute, they’re writing to-do lists for tomorrow.

Anything that has to do with the future is a delusion.

Okay, but does it hurt?

Maybe not.

Maybe you actually need some delusion to move forward. To materialize whatever goals you have in the back of your mind.

With that being said, I guess the answer to life is to…be more deluded.

Ha ha ha!

It would be nice.

But…

We Were Given The Gift (Or The Curse) of Human Consciousness.

The problem with delusions is that they’re fragile.

Imagine you’re just chilling out. Your life is great. Society functions the way it’s supposed to function. You’re confident. You know where you’re going.

Everything makes sense.

Then the next day, as you’re sitting in a café, watching the trees, and the buildings, and the people walking, and the pigeons eating McDonald’s breadcrumbs on the street, you think:

All of this is too normal, too well-structured to be true.

This isn’t going to last forever.

Suddenly, it hits you like a freight train:

If you’ve ever experienced a similar case scenario, that’s what we like to call…an existential crisis.

Not a very amusing thing to have.

But it’s human.

Yes, we’re prone to distract ourselves from memento mori. We might play video games. We might join a pottery class. We might even search for a purpose. But what we actually want is to alleviate the void of a futile existence.

Once you’re conscious of your mortality, however, you can’t un-conscious your way out. Instead, you’ll have a new burden to carry.

Burden = Asking questions.

If forever doesn’t exist…

Should I keep living the way I’ve always been living?
Should I go on a quest for the Truth with a capital T?
Should I find my soulmate?
Should I dedicate myself to a greater cause despite the discomfort?
Should I just have fun and treat life like a giant playground?
Should I collect memories with my loved ones?
Should I cosplay as a rock and do nothing because after all…it’s meaningless?

Behind these questions, there’s only one inquiry:

HOW TO EXIST?

At The End of the Day, It Matters.

What I’m about to write may seem idiotic, but stay with me here:

Ever heard of toe socks (or finger socks)?

As the name suggests, they’re socks in which you can fit each toe inside. And perhaps they’re meaningless, but they’re cute-looking.

Same with life.

It’s temporary. It could make no sense.

But at its core, it’s still worthy.

You can eat a strawberry and realize how awesome it tastes and how beautiful it is to feel something. Even if the feeling itself is temporary and meaningless.

Maybe there's no need to find an answer. We can ask more questions. We can hypothesize. Because for the short life that we’re in, there’s a certain charm about the fact that we’re merely visitors.

Now, the cliché phrase would be: You create your own meaning. If you find something beautiful, valuable, or funny, if it gives you peace and encouragement, then that’s your meaning.

And if you don’t like clichés, I have an alternative motto for you:

Wear more fingersocks.

Next. As the night falls, it's time to put on some pajamas.

Pajama-wearing is a sign that you’re soon going to bed and ready to reflect on how your day went.

Perhaps there were butterflies in your stomach.

Do you know that sensation? I hate that sensation.

I remember the days when I would pass my driver’s license exam, or when I had to give a class presentation. But the second right before the event, those butterflies were gone, and I wondered why.

Maybe it was the exhilarating feeling that…

LIFE IS MEANINGLESS!!!

The relief of thinking: Who cares anyway? Nothing matters!

Because in the grand scheme, we don’t matter.

Sounds depressing, but from another angle, it looks almost…

Reassuring.

And as you’re lying down in bed with those meaningless socks and those meaningless pajamas, you’ll feel tired. Not the dreadful kind of tired, but the relaxing “I survived it well” kind of tired.

Is that the purpose of life?

What if the real, true, deep meaning in this blob of momentary experience that we call life was…

To have a good night's sleep?