Living
Living is miserable and painful. My own existing self who keep doing something worthless makes me so miserable and nauseated. Nevertheless, that worthless behavior of mine is the very way in which I depend on to live. The reality which is full of inconsistencies crushes me . Sometimes, I feel like I rather would go into jail. Even though there is no freedom, the suffering felt from jail will be gone when the time comes. My present pain may last forever. However, there is a me myself who just opens their eyes and looks around without thinking. And also there is another me who keeps doing meaningless things. They both are living. Living, survival etc. There are tons of words for it. But I just realized that struggling itself is the very definition of living. So to speak, living is a very simple act of animals and is also the most primitive thought, which is unrelated to any high emotions at all. Living itself already has a lot of meaning to me. I don't mind if I look miserable or people say I am doing nothing. My own existing self has already given me the most significant meaning.