What is the purpose of life? All happiness comes to an end. You have a loving family but slowly, your parents age and turn into baby-like creatures, they become incontinent, they lose their minds, and forget who you are. Your grandparents who love you so much grow older and older, until their spines snap like frail twigs, and one by one, you watch them die and attend their funerals. You grow numb.
You find love but then love fades– your spouse may or may not cheat on you, but the spark of love disappears. You watch TV in different rooms, your husband’s on the computer glued to Facebook and you’re reading a book, meanwhile, you realize he’s ogling girls on Facebook and net-flirting with them.
You have children and you take care of them, love them unconditionally, only to have them grow up and leave you.
You make money, working hard everyday, only to have the weekend to relax but on Sunday night you dread Monday because the working cycle continues, and no matter how much you make, you can’t take it with you to the grave. Your legacy may or may not be lasting, but none of that matters when you’re dead. Right, Jane Austen?
So I ask you, what is the purpose of living when happy moments become nothing more than memories that make you sad because those moments will never happen again? What is the purpose of life?