A Purpose

September 25th, 2007

I know I don’t usually write to you… just when I really need to, or really feel like it. Today is just one of those days that I feel like it.

So, my thoughts right now are: People have asked me, “Why is life so hard? Why can’t it just be easy, and simple?”

They ask themselves that a lot, too.

I look them in the eyes each time, and think about what I’m going to say next.

Usually, it comes out something like this: “But if everything was easy and simple, then what’s the point to life. If you’ve nothing to work for, then you’ve nothing to live for. And if that’s the case, then there’s no point in living at all. It’s all hollow, empty. We’d just be here; not really doing anything worthwhile, yet not doing nothing. See my point?”

They nod and get a thoughtful look in their eyes. Sometimes, they come back to me a few days later and tell me that I was right all along.

It is things like that that give my life a small amount of purpose. Because, though those words I tell them came from me, my mouth, I don’t always mean them. What I mean, is: though I say those words, they don’t really apply to me. They have no affects on me; they hold no relations to me in anyway.

I wonder, everyday, the exact questions those people have asked me. And each day, I tell myself those same words. Yet, they don’t work.

I assume it is probably because I have nothing to work for, nothing I really want in life. But, that’s not exactly true. I want to be happy. I want to have that Happily Ever After scene. But no matter what I do, it never turns out right.

My name is Emily Davison, and this is the story of my life.


 

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