Life is Absurd

The less you care about anything and everything, the less you try to figure out the point of being, the less you think about the outcome and consequence of your actions and the more you be present in the moment, you’ll start to enjoy being, you’ll be the one noticing how beautiful the road to your home is, how magnificent the night is and how happy you are because absurdity couldn’t let you down, you just accept it, own it and live with it.

Rebellion against nothingness, this old curse of gods, is a brave deed and deciding to enjoy your moments doing what you really love after understanding “it’s all for nothing” is even more courageous.

Stop worrying and overthinking, start living cause it’s all for nothing.

Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

I felt myself in a solitude so frightful that I contemplated suicide. What held me back was the idea that no one, absolutely no one, would be moved by my death, that I would be even more alone in death than in life.

For the outsider–and everyone in this world is an outsider in relation to everyone else–something always seems worse or better than it does for the one directly concerned, whether that something is good luck or bad luck, an unhappy love affair or an ‘artistic decline’.

It is difficult to find happiness within oneself, but it is impossible to find it anywhere else.

Thus, I always began by assuming the worst; my appeal was dismissed. That meant, of course, I was to die. Sooner than others, obviously. ‘But,’ I reminded myself, 'it’s common knowledge that life isn’t worth living, anyhow.’ And, on a wide view, I could see that it makes little difference whether one dies at the age of thirty or threescore and ten– since, in either case, other men will continue living, the world will go on as before. Also, whether I died now or forty years hence, this business of dying had to be got through, inevitably.

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