I feel lonely, almost all of the time.

This is not a unique feeling, I know. It makes me want to do crazy things though. It makes me wonder about life, and whether anything really matters in the end. Comfort. Maybe being comfortable is all that really matters.

I have always believed that being kind and trying to make the small part of the world you inhabit a bit more beautiful were meaningful pursuits. But in the end, do those even matter? When all we ultimately have to face is the steady march toward death, can anything we do have real meaning?

Does real connection with others exists? Is there any reason to strive for anything? Is being comfortable really the only goal in life? If it is, then I am working way too hard. I could be comfortable with so much less. I could give up, not worry about any of this any more. Not love, not equality, not beauty, and not goodness.

There are so many easier paths toward comfort. Is the struggle really worth it?