Absurdly Alive!

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the neighborhood, I found myself walking through the quiet streets. Much like my steps along the familiar path random thoughts started coming to my mind. It was then that my gaze landed upon an old house, standing silently as a testament to a bygone era. The craftsmanship spoke of a love and care that resonated through time, echoing the dreams of someone who was no longer present.

I couldn't help but wonder about the person behind the construction of this house. The dreamer who witnessed the walls rising with anticipation, envisioning a lifetime within its embrace? Yet, here I was, an unwitting observer, the current custodian of a dream that wasn't mine. The passage of time had left its mark; the once vibrant dream house now stood in need of tender care and refurbishment.

At that moment, it struck me – life, much like this aging house, undergoes transformations. Things we hold dear may change hands, passing through the sands of time. Perhaps, the current owner of this house was linked by blood, but did they know the soul who poured love into every brick and beam? It's a curious dance with fate, where possessions change hands, and the stories behind them fade away.

I contemplated my own life, the things I hold dear – my home, the trusty vehicle that ferries me through the twists and turns of life. These tangible markers of my existence might one day find themselves in the hands of strangers or relegated to the unforgiving confines of a junkyard. The permanence we seek is an illusion, for in the grand scheme of time, everything has its season – a reminder that the story of life is woven with threads of impermanence.

As I continued my walk through the streets, the musings about life lingered in my mind. Life, it seems, is composed of a detailed and complex fabric woven with threads of various elements – our material possessions, relationships, principles, morals, experiences, and so much more. Yet, in the grand theater of time, these threads unravel and disappear.

Consider the countless souls who inhabited this planet before us, each with their unique experiences, perspectives, and moral compass. They faced struggles, embraced love, held profound philosophical views, and carried with them a perspective on life that was entirely their own. Yet, today, their stories are lost in time. It's a sobering thought – millions of lives, once overflowing with vitality, now silent and forgotten.

You know, diving into the whole morality and principles thing gets me thinking. We like to believe our moral compass is this timeless guide, but truth be told, it's a bit like a fashion trend – always changing. Imagine time-traveling a century into the future with my current set of morals; I might end up in a futuristic jail faster than you can say "time warp."

It hit me while weaving through bustling markets and diverse crowds – morality is the ever-shifting landscape, not just across time but also across cultures. What's a no-no for one group might be a holy ritual for another. Alcohol, for instance, can be a spiritual elixir for some and a big red X for others. And don't get me started on meat – some swear off it, while others can't imagine a meal without it.

Cultural groups around the globe carry their own moral baggage. Polygamy, for instance, is high-fived in some corners and deemed a no-go zone in others. It's like moral preferences are as diverse as the snacks at a global picnic.

It got me thinking about the only universal thing – the hunger for survival. From tiny ants to us humans, it's this primal instinct that ties us all together. But does that mean survival is the only law of nature? Picture a world where that's the sole rule – chaos, survival of the fittest, and probably a lot of unnecessary drama. Nature's got its own playlist, and survival is just one track on the album of life. So, maybe there's more to this moral symphony than just playing the survival tune on repeat.

The temporariness of it all struck me. In this vast expanse of time, every name is destined to fade away. Names that once echoed through the corridors of existence now lie shrouded in obscurity. Think of the countless individuals who lived, breathed, and contributed to the rich tapestry of human history. Their names, struggles, and desires, all swallowed by the relentless march of time. Even the most enduring names, those "god-ified" by society, eventually meet their inevitable end. It's a humbling realization that the echoes of our existence, no matter how profound, are but fleeting whispers in the vastness of eternity.

As the sun bid its warm farewell, the evening seamlessly melted into a gentle night, unveiling a celestial canvas where stars timidly emerged, painting the sky with quiet reflections of cosmic contemplation which got me all thinking about the whole existence gig. I'm here, doing my thing, but why? I mean, a century down the line, it's like I never even happened. Blink, and my name, my stories, poof – gone. Friends, family, favorite movie stars, even that celebrity crush – all just cosmic dust.

And let's talk about nature throwing a party. Natural disasters could swipe through, turn my playground into a riverbed, and make my house stand on what used to be flat ground but is now a mountain peak. Fast forward a few million years, Earth might not even be a thing. Then, after a gazillion years, the universe itself might do a disappearing act, either through heat death or some epic entropy drama.

So, in this vast cosmic carnival, what's the point of me being here? Is it all just a cosmic joke, or do we all play a tiny part in this grand, mysterious play? Are we, like, the universe's way of doing a variety show? Because if we're all just blips in the cosmic radar, does that make our existence, well, meaningless? It's a head-scratcher, wondering if every person before, now, and later is just a tiny blip on the grand radar of the universe.

So, back home, I might've stumbled onto my personal take on this whole cosmic riddle. It's a matter of perspective. Here I am, at my desk, drowning in academic goals, responsibilities, and messages to tackle – and suddenly, the universe doesn't seem all that meaningless. I've got this to-do list, you know? Stuff I want to do, like completing this article. Then, there's the need-to-do, like passing that upcoming exam. And, let's be honest, there are half-finished blogs somewhere in the mix that I probably should wrap up (but won't anytime soon).

And then there's the good stuff – things I'm hoping for, like world peace, and things I'm afraid of, like the shadow of schizophrenia. Throw in the delights – good comedy, good food, good music – and the causes worth fighting for (saving forests, reviving ecosystems, fighting for equality). Suddenly, these things aren't just blips; they're the future my grandkids will live and the battles shaping their future.

Sure, when you stare at space photos and think over time, it does look like it all comes from nothing and heads back to nothing – the universe's grand entropy party, the heat death finale. Whatever happens post that is basically irrelevant to us in the here and now.

In wrapping it all up, I'm leaning towards seeing the universe as this energy doing a cosmic dance, perceiving itself through our conscious minds. It's like art, (but dance, the most fleeting of arts). So, maybe the trick is to acknowledge that life can be a bit absurd and doesn't always make sense on the big scale. But in the day-to-day, just roll with it – focus on what's happening right now. "Sufficient unto the day is --- the day!"