My adulting has been semi-nihilistic and oddly liberating as a result.
I went from wanting it all and believing in more (as a kid I talked to the sky– #chosenONE shit), to not giving AF and being fulfilled by simpler pleasures: materialism.
Let me explain.
I wanted the personal “why” and I REALLY wanted the big ol’ grandiose “purpose.”
Well… I didn’t really want it, but I liked the idea that my greatness was the answer to this fucked up planet.
AND Damn did I love the idea of everyone having a special calling, something greater to serve, to commit to— ya know, fate and shit.
But those things just don’t move me anymore.
I went down all of those rabbit holes, the ones that were hokey woo-woo, the more concrete scientific and the “laws of universe” bullshit and I can tell you this:
NONE OF IT is the answer.
There is no answer.
It’s all just a bunch of motivational bullshit to convince you to get off your ass and do something.
The truth is, there is no fate.
Theres your start, your end, and the shit sandwich in the middle.
This probably sounds harsh, maybe a little depressing even, but it shouldn’t—because the greatest joys in life don’t come from glamour and illusion, but unplanned surprises and obstacles.
It’s the detours that make the adventure, not the mapped out trip.
We all fall for this idea that we need fixing, we need course-correcting. It’s cool to blame society and fuck it, I’m not above it either– this one is society.
Who the hell said being broken is bad? What the hell does fixed look like? Probably those weirdo-wired up never eating sugar entrepreneur types.
If you like something, do more of it. If you don’t, don’t.
But don’t convince yourself there is some “reason” behind the madness of your life. There isn’t.
This shit is what it is, and yeah– it likes to play unfair.
Match it if you feel inclined, but don’t submit.
It aint that deep, just MOVE.
#Fools
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