Reasons, meanings, destiny, fate the whole shebang flitters around in the air above my head, like some kind of cartoon where I have been hit on the noggin, but no stars are twirling, only the ideas behind what life means for me and you and everyone we know.
Wrestling daily with the idea of random chance, that life is one big RNG of luck and even with all the skills and talent points put as best as you can into your character, the universe sized metaphorical dice still fall on their own, still hit numbers you could never plan for.
Flying in the face of these chances and choices, handling outcomes unexpected, your day is a battle, we are all soldiers of time, all fighting that inevitable final march, where existence itself averts its gaze, and the light which shone across your form, extinguishes, and what remains? What remains of your actions and deeds? Did you reach a purpose? Did you do good or evil? Was it worth anything to anyone besides you, and do you even care?
Do we ever really find purpose? Do we, like I feel I do every second that passes, just bumble and humble and bounce from action to place to event to the next with an oblivious, yet strangely cognisant, knowledge that when this ends I will never know the next part.
We say the journey is the reward because we all fear the end. A sense of peace lacing our strides into a vast void of unknowing we are all on the same infinite path that we want to last forever, but we know can never be. This impotent fury that fills our genes and fuels our legacy and I say, fate, destiny, reasons, meaning, some kind of purpose for our being, and I am awake.