This is not a Fanfiction Story

by DeliriousRabbit

These are (were) my reflections during my proverbal doomsday, as I was contemplating suicide. I hope you read this and that you think about what i wrote. Always remember, you guys are awesome, you helped me through my darker days, it always helped to hear about an unbreakable OP steamrolling through all opposition, when i felt alone and unappreciated. Thank you all. Your the best.

The Meaning of Life

Many people have asked themselves this question, but few come close to this line of thinking, due to the vastness of the subject, and the many ways to approach this subject.

Many people believe that meaning, and enlightenment is found in knowledge, or through meditation. I believe, that is only truly understood in the heat of a moment, in which one realizes: The meaning in life, is our connection to our fellow human beings. I write not about our relations as father/son, employer/employee, but as friend and lover. You are born into a family, and many people find themselves loving that family despite any and all faults it has. This is natural. But one can also dislike or even hate one family, especially if the aforementioned family does not emotionally connect with the child.

Monks are wasting their time. I am an agnostic person, and do not fully put my faith in god or gods, but I know that they are mocking the very meaning, the existence of life. I admire their dedication to their religions, but I believe that they are wasting the holy gift of life, by avoiding "sin" by not having "pleasures of the flesh". Because that is what sexual intercourse is, the gift of life. I believe that sex is holy, as when are we closer to god then when we aid in the holy act of god, creating life.

Men and women who preach hate, and commit crimes for the "greater good" "better world" "in the name of god" are so often misguided as to what they are really abusing and hating, which is themselves. They are a parody of life, like monks living their lives without truly living, and depriving others of life.

Which brings us to the most important question: If a man dos not take pleasure in life, and does not form connections to the world around him; if he dos not have the meaning of life at all, does he even live. How can something with know purpose exist. Some say that art is pointless or does nothing, but it does, it enriches our lives, it entertains us, amuses us, and makes everything seem a little brighter.

So how can a human being, made for no other purpose than socializing, and cooperating with other human beings, exist if he doesn't do what he is made to do. Every fiber, every molecule of our being, yearns for company of others, animals survive and are perfectly happy being alone for long periods of time, while humans fear and hate it. People who are lonely are dangerous, cold, indifferent, and often insane, in short, they are unable to ever again function truly and well in society.