Points of Light Worth Living For

I don’t know what I’m doing. Seriously. With life, with work, with everything. I want to add, ā€œAnd that’s okay,ā€ but is it really okay?

I’ve been knee-deep in a website-building spree for the past two weeks. I think that’s how I cope with life: by making myself busy. Especially with coding. It allows you—or tricks you—into the illusion that you are in control.

But life isn’t coding. Life isn’t a machine. Life is… well, life. And life is alive. Breathing. Moving. Always at its own pace. And we can do nothing about it. No one can force life to bend to their will.

That’s life, lol. Emphasis on the part where we can do nothing about it. But is life always brutal? Well, if you ask me, life is ALWAYS brutal. As in stern and sharp and weird. A better word might be ā€œhonestā€ or ā€œjust.ā€ That’s brutal enough for me.

Like Nature: a volcano won’t ask whether the village has had time to evacuate. It simply does its thing according to its nature, which is erupting and exploding. And, in many cases, killing. The same goes for tsunamis and earthquakes. Or even heat waves, mind you. Heat can kill these days. Life is, unfortunately, much the same.

But isn’t it a miracle that we’re not six feet under and are still breathing? I guess so. How miraculous it was for Earth to form and become filled with life. Life chose this planet. Don’t you think that’s a wonder?

Even with its cruelty, life is majestic and filled to the brim with beauty. If you happen to be in a remote forest at night and look up, you’ll see the glory of it: countless points of light, like a river stretching gracefully across the sky, flawless and untouched by the dark.

And perhaps, at that very same moment, somewhere else, a life is ending

Such horror and beauty exist within the same field. Which is absurd. And wondrous, too, when you think about it.

The human race reflects this paradox as well. We are capable of the most gracious deeds the universe has ever seen, and yet we are also cruel and heartless, killing one another in cold blood. Sometimes the atrocious things AND the gracious things are committed by the very same person.

However, life is not without mercy. At the very least, we are not here alone. We stumble and cry and get up and fall down again. Together. Can we count that as mercy? Possibly, yes.

We are not going to make it out of life alive anyway. One way or another, we are going to be ground into dust and fill the earth from which we came once more. The soul might go to the Otherplace, if souls are real. Or we might simply pop out of existence, and that’s it.

So everyone seems to agree that life is short and that we should make the best of it. But then everyone forgets and goes back to bullying one another. It’s in our nature, this weakness. We give in to temptation too easily, as some religious people might say.

Life is hard, yes. Life is FUCKING hard.

But am I happy that I get to code and build pretty websites? Also yes. Grateful, even.

I don’t know what I’m doing. And that may not be entirely okay, in the sense that I will continue to struggle. But it is also okay, in the sense that there are still points of light I can gaze upon, even when I’m in the pit.

I would definitely count that as something worth living for.

Or dying for. Depends on whom you ask.

See? It’s not so okay.

And that’s okay.

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