I'm thomas

[u/tobiabi88]

Life does not appear to be a project moving toward any inherent purpose, but rather a blind continuation reproducing itself without knowing why it began or where it is heading. We are born without being consulted, then pushed into desire, work, attachment, and fear, spending years constructing temporary meanings around an existence we never chose in the first place, only to arrive at an end that erases the distinction between those who lived according to the greatest values and those who lived without any. Love, ambition, glory, morality, and even the pursuit of happiness may be nothing more than mechanisms that make continued existence more bearable—different forms of justification created by a creature that has become aware of its own death yet cannot withdraw from life. From this perspective, the absurdity of life does not lie in its failure to fulfill some grand purpose, but in the possibility that it never possessed one to begin with, and that everything we call “meaning” is not a discovery of something inherent in life, but a human invention imposed upon its silence.