The Reason For Your Existance

Post Reply New Topic

I exist because I exist. I don't really need a reason other than that.

I must now debunk all these illusions like the Nihilist that I am!

If you believe you are here for the benefit of humankind: What is the point of Humankind?

If you believe you are here for the benefit of the world: What is the point of the world?

If you believe you are here to learn and grow: Then the point to that is defeated when you die.

If you believe you must live to continue the species: This is circular reasoning with no original point!

Pleasure. I'm a hedonist.

I do find questions like "What's the point of existence?" or "What's the reason for existence?" rather... uh... pointless. (pun intended) This is related to my doubts about causality.

At any rate, I tend to be more interested in what is, as well as how to respond to what is. As plain as I can put it, beyond that language doesn't work (the failure of language being related to the failure of questions like "What's the point?" and "What's the reason?").

My purpose is to create things and leave my heavy mark on the world.

Edit: I make it my purpose to create things and leave my heavy mark on the world.

I'm like sanity. I have a serious messiah complex (not medically or nuthin, just a oversized ego) and I want to start the industriallization of space and become the next rockfeller while at it. The public be da*mned!

My theory for why I'm here is that my parent's TV broke and one night they just got bored.

In my case then it would have been failing to bring something along with them to a campout.

Exactly Anbuend. My purpose for existence is just to be.
If my being ends up with a cure for sickness, does that make it my purpose for existence? Nah.

I am here as a result of parental teenage hormones. My reason to carry on being here is I like it, so I'm staying... Besides, I have kids to bring up and the lovely Mel to take care of, so who would do that if not me? My other missions include indulging in as much sex, pies and rock 'n' roll as I can get, annoying my neighbours, and encouraging people not to act quite so much like complete w*kers. So I'm far to busy not to exist...

My parents had me VERY purposefully. My mother even had to go in for treatments cause they weren't conceiving. (ICK! Bad thoughts, bad thoughts, parents having sex! ARGH!! !! !! !! !! !! ! Get it out of my head. Get it out of my head! PLEASE!! !! !! !! !! !! !! !)

The thought isn't too bad. It's the mental image that makes me queasy...

I really have no idea what the reason for my existance is. I've got a few theories but that's all they are.

Not knowing the reason for my existance doesn't stop me from jumping out of bed each morning - my curiosity motivating me to go out into the world to look for new experiences and roads less traveled.