Rage Against Futility

One day I'll be no more. I don't believe there is anything more to it than that, I just don't.

The people close to me will know of me and maybe a few consequences of my life will linger, even if indirect, insignificant. But that too, and any sign of it will one day be no more.

My children and theirs, a big long chain of humankind will go on as long as we can. Even if it happened to be a billion years or as long as it takes for the last sun to burn through, they will only go so far.

So what is the point, if it all goes black? Who should care if there is actually nothing to care about?

We do get some things. We get to create the meaning, if there is no creator. We get to make use of our moments, even if they disappear. Most importantly, we get to answer our own questions about this finite existence, making it a simple choice- do  we  care? In the end, when the panic and confusion falls down, we get to decide how we respond.

We are strong, proud, and beautiful minds that want to make it matter. We want to make it count, whatever the situation. Amongst our choices we find the only fearless option, the two-fingered salute, as we spit in the face of our end. We will make the most of this life, the most of our world. We have this time and then, with a perfect lack of evidence, it will seem to have never happened. Yet, this will have happened, we will have been. That is the fight. We don't consider what wins, we act in the truest defiance - a rage against futility - because we still get to choose.

That is Free Will.

(alt ending: 'I choose to live.'  Still toying with this ;)

 

-AjK, 2nd December 2014