You always hear stories of people who have found meaning for their life
Be it a tale of epic adventure...
Or a tale with a tragic end
However the most common story is of the individual who gave up on finding their meaning
Sticking to what has become a daily routine
Wake up, go to work, go to sleep, and repeat
Cause others pain in some way...
And causing one's self pain as well
Time shall heal all wounds, it's said
But time is also what brings everything to its end
Is time a healer... or is time death it's self?
Life is too short to find out, so some choose to live life to it's fullest
Others struggle to find a calling
I have yet to find a meaning for my life...
As everything I have tried does nothing but bring harm to someone
If I live for others, it's self-destructing
If I live for myself it's selfishness
If I try to balance the two, then when I want time alone there's something wrong with me
I have chosen a life of a drawn sword, wearing a mask of countless faces
But can I truly say that I chose such a life...
Or that this is the life that I have no choice but to follow?
Some say it's the journey that's more important then the end
But what good is the journey if I don't know what end to travel towards?
Is the meaning of life to find a meaning to life?
If nothing else, this fleeting life has taught me one thing
There will always be more questions then answers
Who can truly say life is worth living
When there are only few people that are remembered?
People who have done great things are remembered
Some did terrible things, yet they were still great
However the masses will barely be remembered after a few generations
Whispers of their existence may float about
But it doesn't take long until their existence vanishes
Life is fleeting, and dreams are nothing more then illusions
For a dream is impossible to achieve...
It wouldn't be a dream if it could be
What meaning is there to this life if the meanings are not only up to each person...
But so vague that it's almost impossible to know what it is?
I can't help but laugh to myself when I hear someone say their dream came true
I don't know if it's because of the absurdity of the statement...
Or pity since now they must find a new dream to strive for...
Or pity for myself since I don't have such a goal to strive for
There are too many contradictions in life
This is probably why I am reluctant to find any meaning in my life
Freedom isn't free
Religions that say not to kill, but justify killing in their God's name
Everyone's human, and wants happiness...
Yet humans can do little more then cause misery in the grand scheme of things
I believe that people have only one true wish that we share amongst ourselves
It is not freedom
It is not equality
It is not wealth or fame
It is not having a happy life
It is not having a family
It is not leaving a legacy
It's purpose