In this world every person is looking for one, which they never admit. An underlying problem of the human: why do we survive?
We don’t survive because we hunger, nor because we don’t see meaning in having to refill ourselves, there’s no meaning to keep being happy while we suffer. There’s a deeper level to all of our functions.
We’re thriving for meaning, we define it personally. We build our worlds upon feeling, emotions and memories; we find ideas to live for; we find narratives that guide us; we find stories to take part in. There’s no escaping literature, in some way every one of us associates with a character, align our goals with them, feel what they feel, seek what they seek.
All of this… is a perception of compassion. Underneath these we seek a much more dangerous purpose, a singular purpose which exists in itself. In which, there isn’t an inner voice guiding us, there aren’t samples to encompass, it is without any distraction. And this one question seems to have no answer, not empirically, since no man has ever dominated everything under its’ control, there’s always something more to do. But neither in our world of imagination we can discover what life is in itself. What is a life without visceral drive, without the need to satisfy physical emptiness?
There’s the question we don’t pursue since there’s no answer. But the existence of the questions itself which is dangerous, since it implies there’s nothing stopping us from acting. If there’s no singular purpose to follow, all men are playing the game for themselves, for their ideas against every one and other, there’s no other than enemies, there’s no other than alternatives. Where there’s nothing true, and everything is permitted.
However, if there is indeed a singular motion, we are all playing a game we’ve already lost. Rolling the dice, like probability and chance have a meaning against a vital tide. Maybe this singular motion is disorder itself, where nothing is true and nothing is permitted.