Every now and then I think about how
everything just happens, on and on, without
exception, about how we live most days without
ever asking that simple question – why? Most days, life is
enjoyable, and if we’re lucky, we get through it with
ease. But on some days, a sudden wave of
ennui hits you, and nothing seems important, and you question your very
existence. Why am I here? What am I doing?
Employment occupies the majority of my day; it is my means to
earn money. Money helps me live in comfort so I’m well-
equipped to keep working to earn more money and so on and on.
Everyone must think this is a perfectly reasonable cycle of life, or
else why would they do it? Then again, wasn’t it
Einstein who said that doing the same thing over and over and
expecting a different result is the very definition of madness?
Each day, the only sure progress we make is towards our deaths. The
end is the only thing that’s certain, yet we slog tirelessly and
enthusiastically towards it. Sigh. Oh, dear, there I go again.
Enough is enough, I must put a stop to this, or there will be no
escape from the wormhole of my brain. Look, I’ve written an
entire essay! I guess these things happen when life takes a break from being
exciting or eventful. This isn’t me, really – most days, I’m positively
exuberant about life, full of joie de vivre, looking forward
eagerly to the things that make life worth living,
even if that’s just a nice meal, a beloved song or a new
episode of television. So, really, please just
excuse all this pretentiousness,
empty your mind of worries, and go forth and have an
(Enjoy the earworm.)