You have seemingly brought an existential quandary upon yourself, and, upon having read this, I have decided it warrants a response.

In my opinion, one of the greater problems is a lack of existentialism and an abundance of willful ignorance (the worst kind). So many people live their lives in pursuit of some (often unattainable) goal, in search of "the master plan" or something to that extent. As cliché as it sounds, there are too many people living for tomorrow instead of today. Too many people entirely detached from the world around them.

I honestly never really thought that there was a "big picture" or "grand scheme of things". We're here and, well, that's that. So if, as a whole, humanity is not moving towards something, why are we here? What's the point? Because, honestly (big fan of that word), in the end the Earth is going to go spinning into the sun or something and humans will be destroyed. If ultimately we will not be rewarded with anything we might as well make living the reward. If, in the end, it won't matter if you were in the Navy, a CEO, a late-night talk show host or just a housewife trying to make ends meet, what is the point of even being any of those things? I think that if your life is, after all is said and done, pointless; you might as well have fun and be happy during your run. It only makes sense. So that every action, and every goal set by a person directly contributes to their happiness in some way, shape, form or fashion.

As dismal as it is, eventually you will be forgotten. All of us will be forgotten. So what people need to learn to do is live more for themselves than for other people. In the end you will be alone. All you will have is yourself and your memories. Life is extrinsically meaningless. It is not (in my opinion and based on my findings, at least---but what do I know? I've barely broken the surface of being a teenager, let alone life experience) a journey to some great end. Living is not the path to some destination, it is the destination. The same of love --- you know love has meaning in and unto itself. It is not the the means to some end. The beauty of a rose is meaning enough --- it does not lead anywhere, it simply exists as a beautiful thing and its beauty is enough.

Jumping back to personal tastes. I've been wondering about that a lot recently, what makes people like the things that they do. My youngest sister, for example, is the shining, walking stereotype of a 'girly girl'. Loves to play with mum's makeup and wear skirts that are far too short to be appropriate, and talks about her dreams of being a cheerleader. While myself and my other younger sister are considerably more tomboyish and effectively shun all of that. (Mum once said she's "all my hopes and dreams rolled into one child" which was amazingly depressing.) She abso loves horror films and I get scared if I see a branch swaying outside my window. She loves roller coasters, I'm frightened to death of them. So it seems she has a higher tolerance for and fulfillment from fright, while I simply don't see the appeal in being scared out of your mind. Where do these things come from? I was raised on Christian sing-a-long cassette tapes and now am part of the Metallica and Motley Crue fanbase. Why do I hate R&B music? I don't know. I just do. Perhaps there's some heavy metal gene that I got that cancelled out my fingerpuppet Jesus upbringing.

But, then again, I think there is some level of mental conditioning one can apply to make themselves like something. For example, I wanted to like the energy drink Bawls (the name was definitely a reason why, as well as knowing I'd need a shocking caffeine boost at some point in the future to assist me in staying up at night), so I drank it a lot and tried to force myself to like it. And after a while of this I actually did begin to enjoy drinking it. The same with Mountain Dew (not saying this only applies to caffeinated drinks). I had never had it before my week with JNSLC but I convinced myself I would like it and, lo and behold, 2+ bottles every day (as you may or may not have noticed). Perhaps it's just one of those "grows on you" type of deals. I used to be bored to sleep by instrumental music, but now my iPod is brimming with Explosions in the Sky, Mogwai and Godspeed You Black Emperor. After repeated listening I slowly began to appreciate that music is music with or without lyrics. And really, lyrics direct you to what the song should be saying to you when instrumental music sort of lets you create your own experience and interpretation --- but I digress.

My short response has quickly developed into a novel, and I really haven't made a point; this was just sort of an outlet for ranting since nobody reads this stuff anyway. I guess my point is there really is no meaning to life, and the whole point of living is to be good to yourself because in the end that's all you'll have.

I'm eating fortune cookies while typing this and the 2 I just opened up read "The future seems far away right now so focus on the present." and "Every thinker puts some portion of an apparently stable world in peril." Maybe those cookies really know what they're talking about.