Meaningless

To fight the good fight and win…  This is the best of feelings.

To fight the good fight and lose…  This is not such a bad feeling, for at least you fought for what you believe is right.

To fight the good fight and linger…  This is the worst of feelings.

To not know whether you will succeed or fail, or to know that you will neither succeed nor fail, merely “continue”.  To have your actions mean nothing, advance nothing, change nothing.  To feel like you don’t matter, that you are too small to matter, and that no matter how big you get you will never be big enough to matter.  For your life to mean nothing, and for your death to mean nothing.

We all search for meaning in life.  We search for a reason to exist, for a form of guidance greater than our own whims.  It is not a search easily ended, or easily executed, but the search gives meaning to a life as much as the meaning itself does.  A grievous wound, then, to deny a person their search, to tell them not that their search is right, nor that their search is wrong, but that their search doesn’t matter one way or the other.

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