Life, a Bottomless Well

Labyrinth, with death as the only exit

All my life I have groped in dark recesses of my mind for illumination and understanding of the meaning of existence, unfortunately without finding either. That would demonstrate either my incompetence, incompatibility, or the worthlessness of life itself in absolute terms.

The irony has been that life’s only articulate and expressive representatives that one can engage in this quest are human beings, grossly confused if not biased altogether by the subjectivity of their personal experiences and reactions, unquestioningly inherited by tradition.

It is a no-win situation: If I succeed I have no adversarial reference point to prove life’s worthlessness and absence of its connectivity, because human beings live by virtue of unquestioned belief in life’s imperative import. That being the case, win or lose, this battle for knowledge of life or its extent is lost. Therefore, it follows without question, that I am a loser. So, interestingly, or shall I say intriguingly, metaphysically, life is also a loser, for having offered no contest.
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Update:  Anonymous wrote:

You are incredible, SIR.

How can you for a moment consider yourself irrelevant to the business of life? Is there another such that can unravel complex thought the way you do and express it with such lucidity?

What use is it you will ask.
It points the way for a meaningful existence, despite the cross of consciousness that one must bear.

A long standing ovation to the text
and a wondrous speech struck admiration for the image.
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Update: Charu wrote:

Bhai,

Who could say it better than you...

Will anyone pause and ponder even?

Most of us are mechanical robots wound up with keys of religion and tradition and everything else that goes with them.

love charu