Sometimes...
I questioned my existence; the value of my existence, the purpose of my existence.
I questioned the reasons why I kept going and why I'm doing this.
I questioned every single actions I carried out, every single thoughts that crossed through my head, every single word I uttered.
But the most unbearable question I had to questioned, "Why am I alive"?
What has made me deserved to have what I have, while others my have it less? or vice versa.
What am I living for, exactly? To love? To hurt? To cry? I must be here for a reason, for something, to do something, to fulfill some kind of goal?
Something that would have made me feel that I myself can make a difference? Or made someone's life better?
If I were to die, today or the next day, would all I have done up to now, be worth it? Or will the last few transient memories of what I was fade into dissolving silence, and not leave a trace of memory?
I don't know what I'm living for; seriously, not just yet. And I do not know is it worth dying for.
People always say: "It is not worth dying for."
Well, if my non-existence would actually made someone feel happy or life better, I won't mind dying. At least I know, I did make someone's life better... somehow.
But then, to think again; would you really? Die for something?
p/s: yes, that's my hand in the picture. Its so hard to take a pic of yourself when I don't own a tripod. :(
p/s: yes, that's my hand in the picture. Its so hard to take a pic of yourself when I don't own a tripod. :(
