What is the point of anything?

Post originally written in April 2017.

What is all this for?

What is the point of this?

of that?

of anything?

Sometimes I wonder what the point of everything is. This is not a deep existentialist philosophical question, just something I ask myself sometime. This thought first occurred to me regarding school work. I study and study only to forget everything when the exam is over. I look back on all the subjects I have studied and forgot, concepts that I once memorised but cannot remember; and I wonder what the point is.

I list all the books that I have read and I can only remember bits and pieces of each, sometimes even completely forgetting that I have read a particular book until I start reading it again.

I have seen that film I say, what is it about she asks, ummm I think it was about a man and a woman who did something.

I go to a concert and when it is over, that is the end; there is no lingering thrill, nothing. The circus is nice, I clap and whoop and after the final act it is almost as if it never happened. All the people I have met, the things I have done, the places I have been; nothing has really left a mark on my heart. The moments I remember the most are those in which I laughed deeply until I almost could not breathe. Everything else is just so utterly pointless. Even in the moments in which I am enjoying myself I am already mourning the end of the moment. We are laughing now but soon we will part and it’s back to my solitude. 

Of course there is no point to anything. One reads a book to pass the time, to enter a different imagination, to fraternise with the characters in another reality. What does it matter if one does not remember the gist of the book in five years?

But sometimes it makes me sad. I want to remember all the books I have ever read, all the films I have ever enjoyed. Oh I so badly want to remember everything I ever learned (at school and elsewhere). I want to carry excitement in my heart long after the show is over. It seems a waste of time and money to forget.

I guess it is not a complete waste. These little things, though forgotten, have built on each other to make me person I am today. I may not know the exact definition, but I can sorta understand what it means.

The joy I derived from reading a good book is not a waste. How can watching that film be pointless when it made me laugh so hard. Yes I do not remember any of the jokes but in that moment I enjoyed them and that is what matters.

Still I wonder.

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