This life is REAL...

I saw something last night posted on my Facebook that said, "Do you ever just sit and realize that life is real and you're real and get depressed?" And it just struck me as such a profound thought. Like this shit that happens every single day is actually REAL. The good and the bad, and there's no plan to follow or instructions to read, you just exist somehow and it's really fucking weird.

And what do people do in their spare time? They either read about or watch other people's fake lives and call it entertainment. It's like our own lives are usually very dull so we look to actors and actresses and authors to paint us pictures of lives we wish were real and that's how we pass time. Not living our own boring lives, but watching FAKE lives of people we don't know.

We can't even sleep without dreaming of fake lives. It's like our brain HAS to be occupied with some sort of living life to watch or partake in even when we're sleeping. Dreams can be meaningful, fun, weird, scary, or just plain nonsensical, and yet most of us would rather sleep and dream than get out of bed in the morning. My mind dreams up way more interesting things for my life, that's for sure. And then when you stop to think about it, how do we know what's real and what's a dream? I mean, I think this is really me typing this, but what if dreams are the real life, and this is just fantasy? True, I should be able to fantasize better than writing a blog, but what if I can't? What if this is my dream, and the dream I thought I had last night was the real life? How does a person actually know?

And what if none of this has any meaning at all? What are we even doing here? Is there a God, and if so, what's the point of all this? I mean, some people do great things in life and are humanitarians and such. But what of the rest of us who don't do anything but just exist. What is the point of a life? What purpose do I even serve in the cosmic universe of fate? When I die, no one's going to care that much. I didn't leave my stamp on the world. I never amounted to anything special. And I'm not rich nor famous. I'll have a few family members who will mourn me, but life will go on like I never existed. And what will be the point? Like what am I alive for? Why am I real? Why is this life real? And what am I supposed to do with it? I have no idea.

Now don't mistake this post for me saying I don't want to be alive. Not true. I just sometimes wonder why am I alive?? Like what's the reason? And some people will say so we can grow or learn lessons or whatever, but I'm all done learning and growing. I'm ready for some actual purpose. I don't even have any real friends or anyone to share my life with. So I'm just this solitary creature that just exists in a world that mostly sucks and I far prefer my dreams. So yes, original Facebook poster, I do get depressed when I realize that this life is real, and I'm real and all of this is really happening. Or is it? Hmmm.....