If you live with others, intimately, over time, or, if you live alone, throughout, you will be altered. Life changes you, there’s no getting around it. Can’t get out alive or unchanged. Whether lived alone or with others, life fucks you up. If nothing matters ultimately, it doesn’t matter what or if you even exist. It matters not, what or if you post, write, scream, yell, whimper. It’s not much of a dent on the cosmos.
We like to think, Alaa El-Deeb, or Harper Lee or Mr. Versatility, Tony Phillips, or even Umberto Eco, and their work, mattered, but it didn’t. Only in that we cared about all that effort it does. If we didn’t consider or feel, deem it worth it, it wouldn’t mean dooky-squat.
Yes, nothing matters. Nothing. That thing of not thing, or, NO thing. THAT’S what “matters” most, most likely. Or not.
From the book, “Think And Grow Rich” you think or thought you’d learn the secret in becoming RICH, like, financially successful, once and for all. But instead, Napoleon Hill dropped a bombshell: “Ultimately, nothing matters.” HOLY COW!! Whisky Tango Foxtrot?! Are you serious? Well, apparently so. Ultimately, Nothing Matters. Freedom isn’t free, so, freedom, doesn’t exist. And, for all your effort, whether you believe or not, your work, words, belief, love, means anything, or, any ‘thing’, it apparently, in the vast configuration of things, like the richest man in Babylon, or, in this case Bedford Falls, well, Pottersville, or, La Quinta Resort…damnit! Nothing really matters, does it? Or, does it? We’re all nothing but a scurvy little spider or carbuncle on the backside of humanity, or in this case, the cosmos, whatever the whathaveyou that is.