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March 25, 2013 | by  | in Opinion | [ssba]

Weekly Rant – Case Study of a Modren Nihilist

Being exiled to public transport isn’t all bad. It gives one some much needed time to think. Public transport offers welcome respite from the never-ending treadmill that is modern life. Yes, I find riding public transport to be quite a cathartic experience—yet on this particular bus ride that I’m about to recount to you, my thoughts were entirely macabre, and I found myself realising that I had nothing to believe in. Not even the magic of public transport could placate me.

God is a meaningless word in my world. My life has been a perpetually sinking ship since the day I was born, so if God were to exist, then he must surely exist as my enemy—best to ignore him in that case. Morality is too subjective to be taken seriously, and karma seemingly still hasn’t caught up with me for all my douchebaggery. I couldn’t possibly believe in them.

The anchors of my life—my family, my home, my friends— could be taken away in the blink of an eye, as natural disasters so often remind us. And destiny? The only thing I’ve ever felt destined to do was to eat Cheezels off of my chest as I pwnd n00bs at Halo 2 back when I was 12—but no one would respect me if I did that now (and, to be honest, no one respected it then, either). No, I had nothing and nobody to believe in.

My train of thought was getting progressively more angst- ridden and full of despair as the bus ride continued. Despair not only for myself, but for mankind too: every year, the demographic of atheists becomes larger while the spiritual become increasingly marginalised. Sex and alcohol are our gods now; the nightclubs our temples of worship. does there exist a force that exists strong enough to shake society out of this empty hedonistic funk?

That was the last thought on my mind when she stepped onto the bus.

A vision of beauty—perfection so precise that her being transcended her humanity and raised her to the level of living art. Her existence was a metaphor for something far beyond herself, and don’t think for a second that this fact eluded her. One glimpse at her enigmatic smile could hold the weight of a Dostoyevsky novel. Through her presence, I finally found the meaning of life—and, spoiler alert, it’s bad.

Life is… a beautiful girl on a bus who will always be walking right past you.

Upon seeing this exceptional female I realised, without a trace of doubt, that the only thing worth believing in was the absolute and all-consuming nature of suffering. I resigned myself entirely to despair, and returned to staring out into the obsidian sky.

Oh Kafka, why did you have to die so young?


About the Author ()

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