Why Even do Anything? Life is Meaningless.

I am proudly an optomistic nihilist, meaning that I believe that life has no meaning or value. I am kind to others, and I do what I please with my time, because I know that it all means nothing. I simply make the choices I make because I want to make them.

That said, I have no idea what I am doing on “Prose.” besides the reason that I enjoy writing, and sharing my writing. Is that not enough? Why would one desire to “take to the streets” when it makes no difference in the end? No matter what choice I make, it has no lasting legacy, so I simply choose to do what I please, so long as it is not hurting others. I do with my time what I want, as time forgets all.

Speaking as a published author, writing is probably the least-practical job in the world, and yet, it is my second favorite thing (the first being tea). Why would I trade this for city streets if I do not want to? Besides, there is a pandemic plaguing the world, so what better have I to do than live in those creative worlds crafted by others?

Physical decisions are made by mental thought, and, by reading and writing, I am partaking in mental thought, the essence of both philosophical and physical life. So, I ask one more time: why do anything? There is no reason for anyone to do anything, in the end, so we simply choose to do things out of the influencers of life. I have chosen to write and read the works of others. Others may choose otherwise, but in the end, all choices lead to the same ending. This medium of writing is simply how I choose to get there.