Wherever I am, wherever I go, it's just so damn boring, this mechanical shit that we have to do, to keep ourselves alive. So apart from being alive the stuff that we do, for our own pleasure or displeasure is that what we mean when we talk about life? So, in a sense, we do things that are useless (that is not catering to the demands of keeping ourselves alive (survival) and hence the demands of the socio-economic machinery) and that is the basic identity that is hardwired within us - human. So we are animals with excesses of thoughts, experiences, aspirations and this excess is the cause of our life and death. When a kid is born, just in the first breath s/he gets the basic experience that any living organism can experience, the experience of being alive. All successive breaths are spent to imitate/sustain that same experience. Whatever and if we are able to achieve any excess, only in those moments do we experience 'life'?
Thank you! I am afraid, I cannot say the same for myself. There's so much yet to remain unseen and regretted, so much yet to be seen from the surface, only to gasp at the mystery of the depths. As the nature of dreams go, they are so fluid, so abstract that the only way to be in them is to suffer the cyclic certainty of being trapped in them until the light strikes and snatches the play away from the stage. However, the journey is nice, the process too. The path that is trodden shares its fragrances to keep and that is all there is. There is no eternal destination, for the eternal destiny of the humankind has been to search for that what does not exist, trying to be liberated from the meaningless morphine of survival. So, I am only passing through.