Meaning.

Life is meaningless.

There is no purpose. we are species. a complex, wonderful, strange species. But in all its complexity, life is just life. As humans we are sometimes such lovely people and sometimes such horrible monsters. But we will not go into that right now. Humans are not here to do anything or be anything specifically except to survive, if even that. Yet it seems, at least to me, that every there is a fixed idea and mentality of how life should be and even what it is- you must do this and that here and there etc. as if everything has to be a certain way. there is so much dependence on what is 'normal' and as associated with 'correct'. and what is 'different' is foreign, scary, and weak. I am sick of hearing that something is wrong or bad merely because it is different.

Maybe I'm intensely naive, but I just don't always understand this notion. we are, of course, individuals, but we are in so many ways like each other. we just seem different on the exterior. sometimes we are generic versions of each other. this is not a bad thing necessarily, it just strikes me as interesing. This, too, stems from the idea of whats normal or even whats cool, pretty and the correct way to look, act, feel, and be. a lingering stench of pressure possibly turning to self hate. don't ever let anyone tell you how to live your life. Live it for yourself, however you want to. because hey, life is meaningless, and eventually, nothing will matter.