Carl Sagan once said,
“We are a way for the universe to know itself. Some part of our being knows this is where we came from. We long to return. And we can, because the cosmos is also within us. We’re made of star stuff.”
With this in mind, I wonder why pain exists. Emotional, mental, physical — all of it. Is the point of pain to really appreciate the beauty of pleasure or the solace of peace or the simplicity of a moment of joy?
I often wonder why some things are the way they are. Why is it what it is? Why do we have to risk pain and emotional heartache when we put ourselves out there — risking it all for love?
Why do those we love tell us that we are not good enough? That we’ll never succeed? And then punish us when we do?
Sometimes I wonder what the point of all this is. It’s not that I don’t want to exist, but I’m curious to know why I exist. Why am I here? We are all taught in some way that we have a purpose-a reason for being.
Some say that purpose is to enjoy life — find something you love and make it your job. Embrace your passion.
Some say it’s what drives you to keep going no matter how hard it gets. Those fears, doubts, and pain haunt you but yet there’s something deep inside that acknowledges those fears but refuses to bow down. Instead, you fight.
But why? If we are all aspects of the universe experience itself and if we are all truly one, why do we do hurtful things to ourselves? When you rip me apart with your words and tell me that I shouldn’t have been born, you’re saying this to yourself.
Why do you hate yourself so much?
