What's it all about?
My life was good, but I had a secret. Though I was doing well in high school and my family was happy and had enough money, I couldn’t shake a sad question that had been gnawing at me for a while: What’s the point of all this?
What that meant to me was: What’s the point of life when we’re all just going to die eventually?
Kind of a downer, I realize, but that’s the way I felt. I’d get cynical at social events, thinking everyone was blinding themselves with petty stuff like small talk, shopping, and travel plans. It seemed they were all ignoring the fact that there was no long-term point to any of this—or at least, that was what it looked like to me.
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