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Every now and then I start thinking about death. It’s morbid and a little depressing, but I can’t really help it. When it hits me, it stays with me for a few days.

I have never experienced the death of someone I considered myself to be close to, and for that I have every reason to be grateful.

Death is all around us, part of the lifecycle. For that reason I always viewed it as something that is going to happen. Something that has to happen. I have this idea in my head that when it gets close to me, I won’t be sad, but indifferent.

What I think about the most, though, is my own death.

I get up 5 days a week, go to the gym, go to work, then go home. I work to make money to pay bills to live life.  An unfulfilling life at that. We do all of these things to make ourselves “better”, such as educate ourselves, workout and diet, whatever it is that we see fit to do with our time. Find hobbies, start a family, build an empire, accumulate riches and wealth…

And then we die.

So, what’s the point of doing anything when it all eventually leads to nothing? 

On the other hand, since life is so short and we only get one chance here (as far as we can know, anyway), we should make the most of it.

That’s the other part I struggle with. How the hell do I make the most out of this when everything seems to be against me?

It makes me wonder how much control we really have over our own lives. I want to believe that everything we do is up to us and our circumstances can change if we want them to. At least to a certain extent. Obviously some aspects of life, such as nature and the actions of others, are out of our grasp.

Anywauy, I’m done with this for now.

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