You browse through the front page for a bit, before stumbling upon an interesting post.
It’s titled “You know who you are”, and underneath is a picture of a young girl with long, curly hair and a cute smile.
In the comments, someone replied to the post with their thoughts about themselves.
I’m nobody.
Well, nobody yet. I’m planning on becoming somebody someday.
I’m not sure if I’m going to live past thirty. I plan on dying before I reach thirty. I want to die on my terms, not because I got myself killed in a war or died of a disease.
I want to leave this world on my own terms and not let the… the whatchamacallit, the “generations”. They call it that, because everyone has to live one hundred years, except for me. I’m going to be the exception. I’m going to live one hundred and thirty years for whatever reason. I don’t know why, and I don’t know when it started. All I know is it might as well have been yesterday.
I haven’t done much, but I’ve done a lot. I have killed many, many people. I don’t know how many, and I don’t care. I’ve burned cities to the ground. I’ve had people run through the streets naked and crying for their mothers. I’ve had people eat each other. I’ve had people love each other. I’ve had children murder their parents. I’ve had entire nations put to the sword. I’ve seen friends and comrades die by the hands of their enemies. I’ve seen my enemies survive torture, starvation, the cold, the heat, and more. I’ve seen the ancient fall to the might of a new nation. I’ve seen the rise of the Church. I’ve seen the beginnings of a new world order.
I’ve done so much, but I don’t know what it all means. I’m too young to die. I shouldn’t have to die. I should be living and breathing, not just existing.
I want to live.
You feel like you should be doing something more with your life. You haven’t figured out what that is, but you know it exists.
Maybe you are meant for something great. All those people telling you to do something with your life. Perhaps they were right, but you have to find out for yourself.
You have to live.
You have to breath.
You have to exist.
But what?
The world doesn’t end. You live on.
You have seen too much, done too much, and experienced too little. You have no idea what the hell you’re supposed to do with yourself. You have no idea of the meaning of life, yet you’ve seen the meaning of it all.
You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
You exist, and you continue to do so.
But what does the future hold?
What does existence even mean?
The world spins and the future unfurls.
What will you do next?
“You know who you are.”
You don’t know.
But if you’re to continue existing, you’ll need to figure it out.
Somehow.
You have to.
The world needs you.
You need to survive.
The world needs you to survive.
It needs you to live.