It All Means Nothing

Life is empty. I hold no hope for humanity as I know it will eventually throw itself into the pit of extinction. Love is just a series of chemical discharges brought on by the brains urging. Without dopamine you would feel absolutely no pleasure in life and would not feel as satisfied to accomplish anything ever again; you'd be just as well sitting on a couch for eternity. To know all of this takes the beauty away from life; the mystery has vanished. What I would give to laugh again and feel it means something more than just audible contractions of the diaphragm responding to the relief theory. But it doesn't, and it never will.

That is what it is like to be the most intelligent. That is what it is like to be me...