LIFE

What is life?

It is nothing. It is meaningless. Everything that matters, just matters to me and doesn't make any difference in the end. Who knows what happens after we die? What if we die and just, vanish?

If there's no hell or heaven, then why does it matter what do we do? What if there is a hell and a heaven, or the possibilty or rebirth, and I end up somewhere I regret?

We just act based on our emotions, what they tell us to do, what they tell us is kind. But what if it wasn't? What if everything that we knew was false?

How can we be so sure of things? How can I be so sure of anything? 

Why do I feel things, why can I think? Is there a purpose or not? Why do I get mad, if nothing means anything to me? It doesn't matter, nothing means anything. 

Does that mean I should die?

No. Of course not. Death is meaningless too, it just makes others feel awful. How does that achieve anything? There's so much to be enjoyed in life even if they don't mean anything. I guess we all are selfish afterall. Or maybe it is just me. Even when you make someone happy, it's kind of because you wanted to or you were taught that it's the right thing to do. It's never because you are completely selfless. But I'll never be that selfish to take my own life. Even if it was given to me randomly, I can still have fun. Kind of.

Does God exist? If not, where does the world come from? Just randomly generated out of nowhere, probably. Am I a pantheist or agnostic? I guess both. Does it even matter?

Am I a horrible person? Is it horrible that I like yanderes?

Do I have something wrong with me? Well...it doesn't matter in the end. The only thing that matters to me is life, love and relationships. Which, I don't have any. Despite being close to them, I am not close to them like at all...I don't feel anything real. None of my relationships ever feel like real connections. They might do at the moment. But never after. Would I cry if they died? Probably. And then I get used to them not being there anymore.

What if nothing's real?

What the heck am I even talking about. I was always like this. Was I always like this? Please don't pity me. I always felt this way and it's okay. I love it here. I love myself. I love being weird. Weird, weird, weird, weird, weird...all of this is weird. Everything is weird.

I guess this is why I like liminal spaces and aesthetics alike. Nothing makes senss and yet it's cozy. At least to me it's cozy. 

I say it doesn't matter and in the end, I'm still scared of smallest things like bugs or someone being slightly rude. I easily get angry. How weak and pathetic.

...

What category do I even put this in?

And why did I tell you all of this?