Such is Life

If you die, it's over.

If you commit suicide, it really is the end.

There's a very profound difference between losing your life, and taking it.

Look, I'm agnostic. I don't believe in God, but I don't discount the possibility either.

So let me tell you my reason for not choosing to die.

When the universe seemingly asks me, what the fuck are you doing, it asks me in so many ways.

Terrible ways.

Ways you might have been demanded to endure, like abuse.

Like things being stolen from you.

Like never having enough.

Like being ignored.

Like losing, and feeling lost.

Like forgetting, and blaming.

Like hurting, and being hurt.

The question runs around, in a vicious cycle, disguised as misfortune.

In its pretense, it tricks you in terms of form.

But always, the question remains the same.

What the fuck are you doing?

Questioning you, to make you question yourself.

To make you wonder, to the extent of choosing to die.

You shouldn't.

Because whatever the reason, choosing the end means becoming a part of the cycle for someone else.

A question of pain, and suffering, and uncertainty.

That is what you will be remembered for.

So remember this.

As life asks you again and again this question, this unbelievably hard, important question, remember its purpose.

And choose your own.

Whether we're here for some reason beyond us, or not, we are here.

And all we can do is try.

In the face of it all, we try.

And in that way, we kind of defy circumstance.

Saying, fuck it, or fuck you, to our pain.

Our shame.

And our loneliness.

So when life happens to ask me,

What the fuck are you doing?

I say, my best.

Because it is all I can do.

That you, or anyone can do.

Such is life.