"Love, love, love. What is it good for?

What is life?
We cannot make anything matter. Everything is something but it’s all insignificant. Time passes, things happen, people react, and that’s it. Cause and effect, light and dark, left and right. There is no wrong, or morally correct. Who’s to say that it’s night, or day, or cold or warm. Beliefs, meals, conversations, oceans, pavement, wooden floors, whispers, kisses. What would happen if we all just stood still? We breathe until we die, and then it’s over. As people, we cannot accurately predict the outcome of death, and if death is nothing, we will not be able to remember life. Everything that you did, everything that provoked emotions, or responses, it will all be gone. Forgotten by you, and what is remembered by others, will be forgotten with their death. What if this is not life? What if once we get to where life actually is, we’ll look back on this and only be able to recall a blur of voices and images, passing like the quick yellow lines painted onto the highway? What if we only hear what we anticipate hearing, see what we imagine, feel what we’ve learned things do feel like? How would we know the difference?

We wouldn’t