The Meaning

Explores the complexibility of life

What is the meaning of being a human being? What are we, really? These are questions that not only I ask myself, but millions of us do. Some find various answers, while others find none or simply confusion. Fundamentally, I believe being human means suffering; most of us suffer in different ways some more than others, certainly but at its core, it is suffering. I once heard a phrase: "More than real don't doubt it." How much truth lies in those few words. Why? Because it is undeniably true that we all suffer in different ways; so, it is more than real do not doubt it. Why must we suffer? Honestly, I don't think we seek it out. Could it be caused by sin? Or karma? Or perhaps the fault of our families? I believe society and the environment in which we grow up also bear some blame. I won't say everything is depressing or pitch-black, but analyzing life reveals something so profound and dark; I don't entirely believe life is "happy." On the contrary, I believe it is about suffering. Many people take refuge and find solace in various things religion, studies, sculpting their bodies, or music but is this merely an escape from the inevitable? I have never agreed with the saying, "Good things happen to good people, and bad things happen to bad people." It isn't true; many good people suffer. Pain isn't limited to one gender; both men and women suffer. Ignorance consumes a person, whether we deny it or not. Is love all we need? I don't know maybe, maybe not. But what is love, really? Acceptance and respect? It must be more than that; many suffer and die for the sake of love, but what if it’s just a whim? How can we feel love or love others if we don't love ourselves? I don't think it's possible. As for those who claim not to love themselves yet are able to love others I don't buy it; it might be obsession or mere routine. I rarely feel love, so I take refuge in other things, seeking validation from others like scraps of love. It is merely desire, not love, and that hurts. But why fight it if it's the truth? Why not just accept it? Wouldn't that make things easier? Perhaps *painfully* easy. Finding true love is something we all desire; even the most stubborn people those who swear they don't want it deep down, they do. Carmen was a young woman full of fears and insecurities who sought only validation from men; she lacked self-love. Abandoned by her father, she had looked to her grandfather as a father figure until he betrayed her; from that moment on, her feelings died. She suffered constant humiliations caused by others, but abandonment hurt her the most that lack of love. Perhaps that is why Carmen seeks love elsewhere, trying to be "enough" for men -men who do not care about her and who merely mock how pathetic she is. Carmen doesn't know what love is because she cannot even love herself; she can only pretend. But how long will that facade last? Not long; at just eighteen, she is being used for the pleasure of others. Will Carmen be able to accept that? Only she knows. Many people are like Carmen they suffer abandonment and humiliation and lack self-love, so they accept any form of validation, even if it amounts to nothing more than scraps. This isn't a social critique, but a reality to be accepted; while many might disagree, I know some will agree. We cannot fully decipher the truth of life it means different things to different people. To me, it is eternal salvation even if that sounds overly religious and no one can fault me ​​or argue against it, because that is what it is to me. What is right for some is not right for others, and that must be accepted. Suffering turns things into art, but is that truly genuine, or is it merely an escape? I would say it is a bit of both an escape that isn't entirely pure or genuine, because you wouldn't do it were it not for that pain. Yet, there is nothing wrong with that; in fact, it is beautiful in its own way, because suffering is personal and unique to each individual something that is, at once, both sad and beautiful.