Consciousness Streaming and Seeping

What does it mean to be alive? I know, I know, this thought isn’t at all original, but is anything original? Also, unoriginal. Am I original? “Why, of course!” says my DNA. Of course. But am I? Are we? Aren’t we all essentially the same lonely and lost children searching for...something? Answers. Answers to what? These unoriginal questions. The meaning to life, the universe, and everything: 42. It’s nonsensical to ask for a single meaning in life, and that’s why I love the way Douglas Adams answered: 42. It makes no sense, and no, he never explains it in any of the five in the Hitchhiker’s trilogy (yes, that’s right), because the question is nonsensical. So why do we keep asking? Why do I keep asking, “Why am I here? What is my purpose? Why did he/she die? Why am I alive? Why is this happening?” It doesn’t matter. 42. The end. Now, I’m not totally pessimistic, I do believe in a heavenly afterlife, and that what we do today can reflect on eternity, but at the same time everything I do here seems fruitless. Maybe this is the situational irony of life. If I’m just going to die one day, possibly soon, then what’s the point? If the answer is 42, then there is no point.

The only purpose I can come down firm on is love - to love and be loved in return. That’s it. That’s 42. That’s the answer, and I don’t know how to be good at loving, or being loved, but God, I will try, because that’s all that really matters in THIS life, and that’s what we’re commanded to do. For a good reason. So go, go and love. Love God, and love everyone you meet. I will try to love you, too.