You know, I have to wonder if any of these things are even important anymore. Life. Liberty. Love. What does it all mean if none of it really counts? It’s easy to take life. It’s easy to deny Liberty. And it’s easy to forget love. So what does it really matter in the end? Everything is just another way to consume time, to make it look like you actually have something to do in this miserable life. When, in reality, you just go with the flow. Things matter until they don’t. You live until you die. You have liberty until it’s ripped away from you. And you love until you don’t. It all ends. All of it. So what is the point?
It’s all subjective, isn’t it? Those things matter to people because they give it their own meaning. For example, I live life in the hopes that when I die, I can look back on it and say I’ve lived it with the minimum amount of regrets, and I can be proud of the person I’ve turned out to be. I love, because even though it hurts when it goes away, feeling it is worth it to me. And hell, even the aftermath can turn you into a stronger person if you let it. I do those things because I want to, because to me they seem worthwhile, because I give them meaning myself, to myself. So what if it’s just consuming time? If I like the way I consume my time, I don’t see anything wrong with it. So what if in the end it’s just going with the flow? As long as I don’t hate myself doing it, why should it be bad? Perhaps I just see things differently than you, though - as I said, it’s all subjective.