Today has been one of those unfortunate types of day where existential depression seeps in, and I feel utterly alone and unsure. I look at everything and wonder what its purpose is. I wonder what my purpose is. If our freedom is nothing more than structure that we ourselves create, and no matter how close I may become to another person there is always a remaining gap, meaning I am nonetheless alone, meaninglessness stems outward and squashes me. If I must die, after constructing my own world only to remain alone, then what point is there for living?
I strain to no avail to grasp some sort of anchor point in all of this. In the end, I only become more painfully aware that my life is finite, and that I must live it alone. There is also frightening freedom regarding how I could choose to live my life. Am I choosing wrong? I am one small organism in an absurd, arbitrary and capricious world where my life has no meaning. Is this all there is for me?
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