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What’s the point?

What’s the point of life? What’s the point of death? What’s the point of living when cancer is going to kill you anyway? What’s the point in fighting the current when it’s only going to take you under? What’s the point in wasting your energy? What’s the point in trying at all?

What’s the point of relationships? What’s the point of love? What’s the point of giving your heart to someone when they’re just going to snatch it from you and throw it in the trash? What’s the point of “enjoying the time we have” when ? What’s the point of being vulnerable when all it’s going to cause is hurt?

What’s the point?

I’m not going through any particular crisis, just thinking. (I don’t like it when my brain does that.) What’s the point of this blog? Why do I write it? Is it even worth it? What’s the point in writing about what we do? What I do? Am I bragging? Justifying? Surviving? Drowning? Faking it all? Sugar-coating it? Making it better than it is? Worse?

Am I doing anyone any good? Any bad? Am I doing it right? Should I write more surfacey? More deeply? Share my hurts? My pain? Only the good things? Keep it positive? Write only the things I think you want to hear? The things I wish I was? The things I want to be? The things I’ll never be?

What’s the point?

What’s the point in over-sharing? In under-sharing? In sharing at all? What’s the point in writing all this down? In remembering it? When some of it I’d rather forget but cannot?

Categories: everybody hurts, things that matter

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