I am always really surprised when I realise that I’m alive [that I’m alive to begin with / that I’m currently alive / that I’m still alive]. Sometimes it’s a nice surprise, like receiving an unexpected letter in the mail, or winning on a scratch card. Sometimes it’s a horrible shock, like tumbling down a large flight of concrete stairs and still being conscious when you reach the bottom, or seeing someone get hit by a car. Honestly, sometimes I really just can’t believe that I’m alive. You, reading this, you’re alive too. We are alive and one day we will die and then we will be dead dead dead. Isn’t that extraordinary / crazy / exciting / terrifying?
I’m a peculiar sort of person. I find life both depressing and exciting, but my Calvinistic background makes me fear death. I wish I could believe that death means annihilation, but concepts like eternity are ingrained in me. Sadly not the eternity of bliss, but the eternity of turmoil. I hope this comment isn’t too dark.
Never too dark, Nitin, I love hearing from you. I sincerely hope that you’re wrong about the eternity though. You deserve peace xx
Kafka is a monster, I appreciate you for quoting him. However, let me cover myself back with similarly a smarter person than me myself: “The literal meaning of life is whatever you’re doing that prevents you from killing yourself.” -Albert Camus
A truly brilliant quotation – Camus was a genius! X
Oh yes. Every. Single. Day.
We’re lucky that this limbo at least ends.
Kafka says it better than I can – “The meaning of life is that it stops” :)