(Apologies for the private video. It happened some time after this post.)
It hits me sometimes, in the middle of the night, thinking about what it means to be alive. What am I here for? What am I supposed to do? No, this isn’t about existential depression; I am not approaching the subject from the side of pessimism. Mere curiosity and pure dissatisfaction with 42, brought this upon me.
I find myself deleting sentences except for this one. It is difficult to discuss about “the meaning of having a meaning of life” without sounding like an emotionally dysfunctional person.
After watching these, maybe it’s all about doing something that doesn’t make sense, to be unafraid of judgement, to do something to make people, and thus yourself, happy. It wouldn’t hurt to have dreams too; it makes you a happier person.
P.S. I don’t endorse rodeo.