Perhaps i am irrevocably depressed and therefore cannot conceive the point to an existence, but this is the way i see it:
1. we were born without having okayed the genesis
2. we go to school, do our homework and extra-curricular activities, go to uni and then to work, or just to work, and sometimes engage in more extra-curricular activities that help us give meaning to our lives like praying to shrines and saying things like amen, doing yoga in hot rooms, attend expensive self-help conventions that are marketed as elite improvement centres but that are really a bunch of smart and not very nice people exploiting a bunch of dumb and vulnerable people, and the smart people use pop-psychology to teach lessons every person over 12 already knows, drink alcohol and smoke lots of things to forget, obtain hopeless addictions, fall in love only to have our hearts broken, or perhaps only have the impression of falling in love because the feeling is beautiful and can sometimes give meaning but as a relationship takes two to tango one can always break the other and then the person whose heart got broken loses the will to live, read lots of books, hang out with people (sometimes just to distract ourselves from existence), watch movies, do sport, and get laid.
3. the good things in life are transient, and the bad things in life seem to sink into our pores like mercury
4. rejection, financial troubles, family troubles, time troubles, idea troubles, troubles with humanity, hating humanity, climate change, politicians having all the power and none of the ideas, or morals, pollution, extreme poverty, disease, crime, xenophobia, homophobia, narrow minded rednecks, lack of education, bad health systems, hospitals that transmit disease, cancer, gross obesity and anorexia, are 0.00000000001 of the tip of the iceberg of the failures in this world. and some people, especially the people that have the power to, often so not care to fix them but only to live their lives in disgustingly superfluous luxury, like driving a new lamborghini is a better idea than helping a small town eat for a decade.
As I enter the dull hum of my workplace, I set my mind to another place. The place I go to is a forest that is mine. The forest where my home is. I am the only resident of this magical place. Sinking into this private world, I close out the crying babies, the customers who complain and the overhead speaker phone. I do my work. I wait eagerly for my shift to end. And when myshift ends, I drive to the forest where my tree house sits in the trees. Nobody, but me, lives or resides in this forest. Because this is where I live
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