"Why is this LIFE?"

                                                         

                                              Is there something like fancy and reality? I don't discover myself unpracticed or a little child to pose this question or a progression of inconveniences that frequents me. What is life? What am I doing here in this world, why would it be advisable for me to be disturbed by episodes of incidents?

Standing under the vale of a thousand thoughts and questions, for which no person in the religious order or someone who is brilliant enough can satiate my soul, which thirsts gravely for answers. What is the use and value even if I am educated to the extreme? So far, I am not inspired by people, or by their preaching, nor books. All pen down their perceptions as they coexist with encounters.

Concepts, entities or attributes like happiness, extreme joy and delight, people, socializing, care and concern for others, religious teachings and so and so on haven’t found place in the pages of my life and if something in a small measure remains, are getting blurred day after day. As I live each day of this alleged “LIFE”, I am a completely dissatisfied person, living for reasons unknown and with no intention to multiply or find love.

I just have an option open in front of me, "Conceived once, so need to live till I fade away into blankness".

Each and every day appears as the same with no clear cut answers as to why this life is exciting or should be appealing? But I still have no regrets or complaints.