2:12am and I'm wide awake.
Sometimes I wonder, if you know that a path leads to a dead end, would you still walk down it? Travelling is about the process and not the destination right? Why worry about the dead end when you can walk down the path, admiring the flowers and the trees and the view of the lake on the way?
Given that the human life is finite and very short and we are most certainly going to die, why do we even bother to live it still? For people living their lives with passion and with joy, with innocence and conviction, they don't worry about stuff like this right? They're too busy living in the moment to worry about what happens after the moment. And if you look at it in a different point of view, it is precisely mortality that should actually fuel us to grab every opportunity to make it count.
So why am I unable to discard my sceptical mind and annoying need to know, and just dive into life as it is, without having to analyze everything that comes along the way? If life, enshrouded in mysterious mist, is more beautiful than life overexposed under harsh lighting, wouldn't it be better to experience it this way? But then - is it true beauty when you can't even see it clearly? But then again, what is beauty? Given that I am the boss of my reality, wouldn't I be the one to define beauty as it is to me?
Perhaps beauty is the simple truth. The simple truth that we are going to die, yes, but there is no use striding up and down a corridor within a house, knowing that the road from the door leads to a dead end, but still, the only way to really know, is to walk down that road. To recognize the futility of trying to lift the mist and still try. To live and love and laugh, all the way down the path, and while the dead end would still present itself as a devastating disappointment, to still have the courage to make that leap.
Is that my answer?