So, what now?

When I used to write for the QW!, I was known as the one to write the EMO posts.  You know the type, the soul-searching, woe is me, make me feel better and kiss-a-boo-boo styled drivel that plagues most "online journals". (read: Ego-masturbation)

With a box of tissues at the ready, I'm hunkering down to write my greatest emo masterpiece.  Are you ready to bear witness to my pussification?  I hope so.

I'm 26 years old, and in a little over a month, I'll be 27.  I'm a married home-owner, who basically writes his own ticket at work.  Financially, I'm ok.  I'm not rich, but I also have just about everything I want (within reason).  My wife doesn't care if I watch porn, smoke out, and play videogames all night.  I work from my home 3 days a week.  I pretty much have it made, right? 

Somehow, it doesn't feel like it.  Now, listen, I'm not saying that I have it bad, but I won't say I'm lucky.  I worked hard to get where I am, and I'm not afraid to say it. 

Here's the ultimate problem:  I have all these things, all these positive things in my life, and yet, my life feels empty. Mind you, I'm not slitting my wrists or popping pills for attention.  I'm relatively happy, but at the same time, left with the feeling that at the end of the day, none of anything that happens in our lives really matters.  Nothing that we do today, will affect generations to come in a positive way.  Not in any real sense.  What can we do about it?  Not much. 

I'm also overwhelmed by the devisive vitrolic culture that has rooted itself in our society.  We're at this point where you are damned if you do, damned if you don't.  You know why I don't give a fuck about politics?  Because when it's all said and done, there isn't really anything we can do about the things we don't like.  Mostly because the entire system is flawed.

It's not just politics, either.  We, as a general rule, don't really give a fuck about our neighbor next to us.  Oh, we pretend that we do, but the reality is that most of us, myself included, are too wrapped up in ourselves to think about the next guy.  We have no sense of community, no great purpose.  We are bones and meat, a series of synapses and chemical reactions.  And frankly, we're nothing more than animals who are self-aware.

I'm constantly asking myself, "So, what now?", because I feel confused.  I've done the things that I'm supposed to do, and yet, still find no relief from the ever tormenting question.  Part of me, believes that there is more to life.  But for all you devout church goers out there, faith isn't going to do it for me.  I'm too savvy to fall for a few tomes of magic tricks and ghost stores (read: Thanks King James' Bible!).  But if not religion and faith, what can fill this void of unknown?  Can't there be some kind of real tangible evidence that we are more than just evolved monkeys who can drive fast cars and fuck fast women?

Now, you're probably saying to yourself, "Hey man, didn't this guy just write about how shitty blogs are and why I shouldn't give a fuck about the authors?"  And you are right.  You shouldn't give a fuck that I'm feeling this way.  But you SHOULD give a fuck if YOU feel this way as well.  I may be just some dope-head geek with a penchant for violence, but you probably aren't.  And if I'm not the only one feeling this way, then man, we've seriously got some problems collectively.  I see the end of our species on the horizion, man.

OR maybe I should just stop writing when I start smoking, if you know what I mean. *Sly poke, and taunting wink*