Is it wrong to feel detached from a pressurized society? Is it wrong to lead to oneself to want to kill themselves? Is it right to think on this sole purpose? There’s so many questions that I ask myself- yet I prevail no answers.
I question my very own individuality, my identity, and the ways that I live in this very beehive city.
What does it mean to live? What is the meaning of a human life, the morality of an individual’s life?
To define life is difficult to distinguish. I have searched for the meaning- there are several. One would be “a corresponding state, existence, or principle of existence conceived of as belonging to the soul: eternal life.”1.
Looking at myself in the reflective surface of the mirror – my mind; the ligaments of my nerve cells, the schemas that I’ve developed on my inviduality – I am not one. I am not a human being, I am not living- I believe to be dead.
Aujourd’hui, je ne vivrai jamais en ce moment.