The truth is that I don’t know.

Everywhere I look there is someone claiming knowledge.

But what do I know? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

There is so much information. And my barely average intellect can’t even begin to comprehend.

And it leaves me frustrated.

To survive in this world I have to submit myself to work. To provide some sort of service in exchange for credits (a.k.a money, a.k.a physical representation of energy exchange) that I can then use as leverage to obtain other goods and services.

I’m over it. I really don’t fucking care. Why do I have to participate?

I hope the atheists are right – that when you die nothing happens. Because FUCK having to do more stuff after all the stuff I’ve already done.

I don’t want to deal with reincarnation and all other kinds of bullshit. I don’t want to fucking participate in this charade of existence.

It’s nonsense and I don’t care.

Or maybe I do care.

I don’t know.

I just get into these spaces sometimes. These spaces where I really just don’t give a fuck. And then there’s this part of me that feels bad for confessing this because some of you will judge me saying “How could you say such a thing? Life is precious. Don’t be selfish. Don’t think like this. Don’t be negative.”

FUCK THE FUCK OFF.

Let me have my thoughts — you go ahead and have yours.

No. I don’t always think like this. But sometimes I do. And I don’t think it’s bad that I do. I actually at times really do think that not existing is better than existing.

If I didn’t exist I wouldn’t even have to think about whether or not existence or non-existence is better – I WOULDN’T EXIST SO IT WOULDN’T FUCKING MATTER — isn’t that blissful?!

I think it’s fucking blissful.

All this bullshit about good, bad, ugly, beautiful, existence, non-existence, is all a matter of discussion for those who exist and have some kind of a brain to ponder and reflect upon existence. But honestly, I could do without it. And I don’t care if that sounds negative to you.

I mean… suppose there really is some grand fucking purpose to life and it’s some beautiful ass fucking shit… cool? Then what? I don’t get it.

I enjoy the black screen. Those nights when I’m asleep and it feels as If I don’t even exist. I don’t see a need to come back to this bullshit and do things and talk to people and play fucking pretend.

There’s a part of me who feels she needs to apologize for saying the above. But not because I really feel bad for saying it, but because I feel bad for being judged for saying it.

These are my thoughts, though. And why should I hide them?

I don’t really know what the point of this post is. Which I guess brings it all back full circle.

I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know what the point of all this is. I’m just going along with the system I was born into and trying to do the best with the limited knowledge that I have.

I have a lot to be grateful for. Things could have been much worse for me than they are. Things also could have been much better too, on the other hand. But either way I am who I am and I’m doing my best with what I have.

Some days are better than others. Some days it even feels like it all makes sense.

But other days, I just don’t give a fuck.

But honestly, I just don’t know.

I’m having doubts about sharing this – which is something that never really happens since Reflect Out Loud has always been about me sharing my raw thoughts in a more tangible format.

But I’m gonna share it anyway.

Fuck it.

YOLO, I guess…

I don’t know.