Consequently, my mind has been preoccupied with the question of death and what lies beyond it. When I begin this torturous thought/trek, I always begin with my own demise. My own personal death. A fine place to start!

I begin to take stock of my life and what it all meant;  joys, regrets, pain and the absurd moments in time that made up my life. These moments in time cure fragmentary and in no particular order. Makes perfect sence to me.

Kurt Vannegot has implied in several of his books, that all moments in time exit simultaneously and forever, and that linear time is a human illusion. When I begin these thoughts/treks of mine every day, I find comforting truth to this.

I think about lives that I have touched, and what little wisdom I was able to pass along, and how all of it might exist in these eternal pockets of time.

The sad part is, when I think about my life long enough, everything I have done really doesn't about to much. In simpler terms, when I think of the big picture and my contribution to it, it amounts to doodly squat. And consequently my tears begin to flow.

I imagine that at the end of everyone's life, those who are fortunate enough to contemplate their life feel this uselessness. That everything they may have accomplished amounts to doodly squat in the cosmic scheme of things. I, of course cannot speak for everyone, but I feel that I am speaking for most when I say this.

I reason then, that this uselessness people feel at their inevitable end is so common, because life literally has no distinct meaning to it. I have spent the better part of my life thinking that life is so bizarre because of this fact alone.  When humanity was added to the equation, there was no instruction booklets, no explanations, no nothing. A fact of circumstance, that has more to do with the human character then anything else.

When I get to this point in my thought/trek, I come to the question of death in general, moving rapidly beyond my own end. I wonder about all the people who have died and continue to die, needless empty deaths. I wonder how we tolerate it year after year. But then, that meaninglessness, that life so obviously shows again and again answers this nicely.

Those places in history, where death has grazed for a time: The Killing Fields of Cambodia, Auchwitz, genocide experiments here, there and everywhere. Places where the beast in man tore from it's slumber and slaughtered without prejudice. These are all clear, horrific pictures of what the meaninglessness of life can do to Man.

"If life has no clear, grand purpose" The Man/Beast says, "Then why treasure and respect life at all?" This Man/Beast in us, despite his objectionable presence makes an interesing point.

I mean, aside from what our conscious obviousy tells us. What would be better about life if we weren't so cold and cruel so often towards one another?

Well, life would be simple and happier for sure. Moments of joy would certainly outweigh moments of pain. But would life have anymore meaning to it?  Some people say,  "Who cares about meaning"   "I've got Peace and Happiness"   Most people would agree with me.

"Not me however, I want Meaning, I Crave it".

Written by

Lee Henry Aguilera

October 17/1974-August 14/2000