Even writing this is pointless. Nothing will come of anything. In the end infinity swallows it all. So what? What if humanity evolves and accomplishes the greatest possible achievement? After a quadrillion quadrillion years it will mean nothing. Everything loses all sense in the face of the infinite. And this is what eats at me. All day every day. Infinity scratches at me from the inside. And I try to be human. But I'm not. Not really, I don't care about your stupid human squabbles. I don't care that you're depressed. I don't care about your society. I don't care about the people close to me. Everything is the same to me. I wish I could just find some dark corner, and just sit there, until I die. But even my own death is meaningless. I just wish I never had to interact with another human being. What could I possibly tell them? I can't explain anything. My words will help no one. My actions, they might help, but so what? It's just temporary. It's all just a temporary phase. This too shall pass. I'm depressed right now, I'll admit, and I'm not gonna kill myself. I'm just vomiting, that's all. Don't even reply to this, I probably won't be back here to check it. You should probably stop reading now. What I'm doing is really fucking stupid. I know it's stupid yet I continue on. Because I can't sleep. And I can't be understood. Understanding is an illusion. Even that in me which desires to be understood, to be accepted, it will pass away. The end of a life, or even the sum of its events, are nothing in the face of non-existence. Words can't describe this shit. Some of you probably have "real" problems. Maybe you're sick, maybe you're poor, maybe you're being abused. I know there's tons of demented people out there doing god knows what to others. I think there's many people who have a legitimate claim to suicide. If that's you, here's one voice saying do it. Do it for me. Because I won't kill myself since time will do it for me regardless. I don't desire death. But I don't desire life either. What does that make me? Desireless... but still experiencing the happening... sometimes happiness, sometimes sadness, sometimes detachment, sometimes involvement.... but I've been to the end of this ride. I've seen it all. It's just boredom I guess. I'm just bored. I just want to sit and look at the sun, the moon, the clouds. What would happen if I did that? If I just left my apartment right now and sat down somewhere and didn't move from that spot? Eventually someone would come by and remove me I suppose. Then what? Where would I find myself? What if I refused food? They'd force feed me I'm sure. I wonder what type of drugs they'd put me on. Albert Camus famously said that the only worthwhile philosophical question was whether or not to commit suicide. He had a very good point, but I wonder if he figured the math himself. Because the answer doesn't matter in the end. It all turns out to be the same. It's all the same, it's all the same, it's all the same. Everything's nothing and nothing is mine. This is just make believe. This. That. The other. Boy if you're still reading you really must be bored like me. What role will be thrust upon me next? With whom will I interact? I wonder what I'll say. I wonder what they'll say. I wonder if they'll play make believe like everyone else or if they'll actually desire reality. Because reality is the simplest fucking thing possible. That's why its so boring. That's why we have to make up illusions and play with them. If you had a choice between being bored and being insane which would you chose? I can be anybody I want in this world. Literally. Anybody. I have enough talent to be the greatest politician who ever lived. I have a decent body and a decent face, if I worked out a bit, it would be pretty appealing. I could be a doctor. An engineer. An actor. An academic. I could be the wise cracking professor that everyone loves. I can be a criminal. I can go commit murder. Or a heist. I probably couldn't rape anyone though. My dick wouldn't get hard. So I can do anything besides rape someone. But I have no motivation to do any of it. I have no fear left in my life and thus no fire under my ass. The problem is I worked everything out to the end, so no matter how great the achievement I'll always remember myself. Empty. I feel better now, but I still won't be able to sleep so I'll keep writing. I'll make it challenging for you. You really wanna get to the end of this don't you? Well it's a battle between you and me now. Can I write enough bullshit on here so you get too fucking bored and quit? Can I make you quit reading? I'm sure most eyes have already stopped. You're probably one of the more stubborn ones. Let's see how stubborn.... You see, technology is just the fulfillment of human desire. Our desire seems to be limitless, but our creative potential, our technological potential, is also limitless. It's only limit is the amount of energy in the universe. So if you extrapolate it out to the extreme limit one of two things happens. Either humanity goes extinct, but then something else takes its place, if not on this planet then on another. OR humanity achieves a level of technological development wherein all of one's desires are instantly granted. So, eventually, life reaches the state of godhood. Which is cute for a while, but when you're in a state which grants all your desires instantly, boredom becomes a huge problem. So, one day, you wish for a surprise. And you find yourself here. Reading these words. You see if there's no limit to existence, there's no POINT to existence. But if there is a limit to existence, once that limit is reached, then existence ceases, so there is still NO POINT TO EXISTENCE. If you're still reading this, either you're confirming this truth within yourself, or you're finding excuses. Maybe you're revolted or whatever. If its the former then rejoice, because that means you're finishing the game. If it's the latter, then fuck off, because I'm not here to argue. I'm fucking done. I am done with everything. I finished this game. The other night I had a dream that I was living in a Sim City that I had built. I got so involved in my Sim Life that I totally forgot that I was the one that built the Sim City to begin with. There was a whole story line that went along with the dream, something I was trying to accomplish with another person living in the city with me. I think that's pretty symbolic. I am the one who built this game. I am the one who plays the game. I purposely made myself forget that I had done this. This made the game fun for a long long time. But for the past 20 years the game hasn't been fun. It's had its moments, but they were rare, and mostly its been a living hell. So it drove me to figure out just what the fuck was going on around here. Here's the trick. You're born, right, but you have no memory of it. Then one day, you have your first memory. You're probably two or three years old at this point, you've already been talking and walking for a bit. But that's your real birthday. That's the birth of your self concept. And everyone tells you that it's you. But it's not. It's just an image, it's just an idea they programmed into you. And you go through life believing it. And it's not like anybody did this on purpose. There's nothing malevolent behind it. Just ignorance. They all believe their self concept is real too. But it's just an idea. And ideas have absolutely no power unless they're believed. So, here you are, reading a stupid insane rant, right? Chances are you've experienced your own insanity. You've been considering death for a long time, and that consideration has revealed to you all your fears. Now this is the culmination. After you're done here, go do the math for yourself. You see, the thing you wanted to kill, the thing that wants to die, that thing's not even real! It's just an idea. Just like these words. These words aren't real. They're just words. And these ideas all have the power to influence your emotions and your experiences... if you let them. They're holding you hostage... if you let them. They are a prison (or a game) of your own making... if you want them to be. Pretty fucking wild, eh? So what is real? What's left? Now. Just now. Just the present moment. Everything else is an illusion. Everything. Returning is the motion of the Tao. In the end it all comes back to the one. The infinite one. The only one. This moment. The eternal present moment. Now. It's always now. It can never be any other time but now. Ever. I know you've tried to escape yourself. But you can't. No matter what you do, you won't escape. Even if you kill yourself. You won't be able to escape. There's no escape because there's nowhere to run. What are you left with when suicide isn't even an option? p.s. I've changed my mind, I'll come back and read replies. Congratulations btw, you beat me. You read all the way to the end. You're a real trooper.