At times, I can't help but wonder if it is worth the effort we put in. We're doing all of this, for what? Nobody gets out alive, nobody's found a loophole, no matter your fortune, your relationship status, no matter how well or poorly you treat people, you will die too. Nobody escapes it. When I think of it, I then wonder why am I trying to be a better person, to be honest, to respect others, to be nice? Does it really matter? The way we live doesn't reflect on how we will die. You can be an asshole all your life and go quietly in your sleep, while the nice person will suffer through cancer and all of that.
Even if I do believe in karma, at times, it all doesn't make sense to me. I guess I don't have that type of faith, the kind that will explain or rationalize it all, 'cause even if I try not to judge, because when I think someone isn't deserving of suffering I'm judging that person (in a good way, but still it is my judgement), and I shouldn't. I should mind my own business, do my best and trust in the universe, or the energy or whatever. At times, it is fucking hard to do.
I know life isn't easy, I get that. We all have a path, that we choose or not to follow. When I think of people (
I swear, when I feel this way I so get why my father took the way out he did. I'm assuming that was a way for him to claim some control over what he felt he could no longer control... I still think it showed courage, and desperation, but courage to pull that trigger. Courage I don't have. At least not for that. I have courage, but what I'm lacking at the moment, is hope, or is that faith?