From The Archives

Just today, I found this old thing that I wrote when I was around ten years old. I think it's interesting; there are so many buds of ideas expressed, not really fully developed, but relevant to my young mind nevertheless. I find it funny, my experimentation with punctuation. I am fairly sure I had just figured out that one can use the word 'yet' in writing. But the last couple sentences kill me, because I can vividly remember being a little kid, and feeling exactly the way I described. That doesn't really happen to me anymore, and I wonder if, as one gets older, it's easier to accept the idea of an imperfect, unpolished life in a real world. I never realized, year to year as I grew up, how much I changed. But when I go back and read these strange, disjointed passages I can't even remember writing, I know that I have. Hopefully for the better.

The meaning of life

by me

The meaning of life is to live, whether you choose to be mean to other people, or whether you choose to be nice. The meaning of life is different to all people, just as all people are different. All living creatures should be aware of themselves, though. We all have our place in nature, and nature does us a favor, by giving us the land we live on, the food we eat, and also giving air to us. Many people take this for granted, and build factories out where people could be enjoying the subtleness of the world around us. These factories make the air smoggy and bad smelling, and are not good for the nature around them. In other words, these factories are not doing us a big favor. Whoever the corporation is who paid for them to be built is not caring for their country's environment. The meaning of life is to some people, comic. Life, to some people, just goes on and on, nothing really happening. Then you die, and you are no longer able to do anything, and that is the end of that. Other people find life to be an adventure, something new around every corner, whether it be beautiful, horrible, amazing, sad. Some people feel that life is just like a ride at the fair grounds. It loops, and turns, and goes quickly, or smoothly, or bumpy. You might, at times, wish it would stop, at times, wish it would never end. A lot of people don't really think about dying. They just cherish life for all it's worth, and make the most of it, until the end. Some people believe that a part of you lives after death, a part of your conscience, now, part of the universe, part of every person and animal on Earth's life. The meaning of life can be life itself. I often wake up, and don't really see my life in a literal way. It's like I'm looking through a mirror, and I can see everything in my life, yet, I don't really feel as if it's my own. I am, however, aware that this life is mine, and when I stop to think about it, reality hits. It feels as though I'm going down in an elevator, but I'm not standing on my legs. My whole body feels alien to me, and there I am, me, in a real world, in a real life. And it's scary.