Why we live

Bare with me, readers, as I am about to embark on a slightly depressing but unavoidably true tangent that crossed my mind this morning.

So this thing we're all doing right now, life. It's a pretty odd occurrence. How strange is it that we are anything at all? But, more than that, how strange is it that we put effort into being anything else? The fact that we are something should be enough. Why do we all feel the need to prove ourselves as something else?

But really, what I want to say, is that we spend our whole life living and then, sometime hopefully not too soon, it will all end. We will die. And everything we ever lived for, every memory we ever had, every thought we never spoke, will die too.

Think about when you plan a birthday party. You spend so much time sending out invitations, ordering decorations, picking out the perfect outfit. And then, eventually, the date listed on those fancy invitations will come and it will go and everything you planned for will be over. The party was your final product and when the last guest leaves it is no longer part of your worries.

How weird is it that, in life, the one thing you live for is to die? Your final product, what all of this living is leading up to, your birthday party, is the moment you take your last breath and leave everything else behind. We live, truly, to die.

And once we are dead, that's it. We will not worry about if the birthday party went well, if all of our guests had a good time and enjoyed their fancy invitations. Those people will know that they were invited into our birthday party which is life but we will never know if they came, if the cake was too dry, if people enjoyed their time with us. We will be gone, and although it may be sad for the party goers we left behind, we will have completed our life's goal because we will have died.
And they should not be sad if they realize we finished the only thing we were put on this earth to do: die.