happiness

It's weird: whats the meaning of life? Why are we born if we are to die eventually? So that we can live our lives to the fullest?

But who are we before we are born? Who are we after our death? Who determines that person that is me is to be born and to live my life to the fullest? If I werent born, it wouldnt have made a difference if I led my life to the fullest rite?

And what difference does it make anyway, to lead my life to the fullest? Who's to tell the difference? For whom does it matter? To myself? But I will be gone after I am dead, poof, nothing more. It doesnt matter a whit to me anymore if I had led a full life - not if I am not even there to be matter-ed to.

To other people? Why should it matter to other people that I lead a full life? Most people cant be bothered enough with other people to care. Other people's affairs are like stories on the newspapers: the stories hurt you when they challenge your own affairs and mortality, but other than that, they are just another story in the wind.

Perhaps we are to contribute to the universal good, make everyone better off using my own life. But why should I care? When I am dead, I certainly cant care about that, and most people certainly wouldnt care that I contributed, other than token appreciation. Even if they do care, I wouldnt be there to care about whether they cared or not - it matters not to me when I am dead.

For that matter, why do we think that a good life is a life thats full? Full of what? It can never be full of happiness, nor full of accomplishments. Does accomplishments amount to happiness? Do we even care about happiness? Why should we?

If making ourselves happy is the ultimate goal, why cant we just eat and drink and have sex all day, for the rest of our lives? Probably because we need money to do that, so does that mean we are slogging our lives away just to achieve these goals: eat, drink, and have sex?

Why does it matter anyway?