Questions On Life
Is there a purpose in life? Is there a reason as to why we cry, laugh – or to be poetic, exist?
Is the human race just a statistic? Are we living just so we can have numbers to put on paper, to calculate for, to study for? To begin with, why is there a need to study existence?
When we were born, we were naked – oblivious to our own needs, unknown but to our creator. As we spent seconds, minutes or hours in this world, our creator dictated what we need, or told us who we should trust. But if they never did so, would we have grown to the statistic we are today?
Who molds us to be virtuous people? Who dictates that we should grow up the way we do? Or rather, who knows when we indeed have grown?
As we live and breathe another minute, would it matter happens next? When a murderer kills, he is beheaded, or is locked in a box for the rest of the world to forget. Unless we move the world in a way that moves every one who inhabits it, does our actions really matter?
Do we live for the sake of living, to give gratitude to our creators until such time that our descendants do the same? The world lived without humans, as I am sure it still can. But with that thought, why do we stay? If the apocalypse comes to destroy us all, wouldn’t plants and animals still roam?