There are two tragedies in life. One is beleving that there is some
mysterious and profound meaning in your life and then go searching for
it.The other is never finding the meaning in your lifetime. In a world
with few absolutes, death is decisively the culmination to our quest for
the meaning of life.
The search for meaning of life is a product of religious
culture, which influences going inward in the search for purpose,
forever seeking your own identity. An unpleasurable state of mind an
intense yearning, but with a lack of purpose as to how to find it.There
is excitement but the aim is rather tenuos likea fantasy.Seekers go
about like someone who has misplaced a valuable possession and inquires
incessantly for its meaning - a sort of distraction and diversion from
the realities of life.
These are lost souls, breaking beneath
the burden of their own anguish engaged with the primary struggle of
life, yet they search for hidden meaning to be found in random places-
in the holy books, scriptures, promises of priests, gurus and mystics.
They think some profound secret long buried in the past will
unexpectelly turn up. A reveleation through images rather than narrative
or casuality.
The meaning of life is not an artichoke where
you forage the interpolated layer till you arrive at the centre. Life is
morelike an onion, peel away the accreted layers of experience and at
the centre you will find- nothing . We live and we die, don’t ask why
because there is no lie, like the purpose of life- this is reality.
A Buddhist comparison, as cold as the conclusion of a metaphysical
syllogism, a compassion not only for men but for all life which
struggles,cries,weeps,hopes and dies - not perceiving that everything is
a phatasmagoria of nothingness.
Life is meant to have a
blast,living recklessly, living in the realm of timelessness; living up
to desires.. to travel~ living place less… faceless, to caress the
velvet reality … to glimpse at nowhere…-Vinay- Nike “Just do it “
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