blushes

Present questions:

How does one live with the knowledge that there is no god and no free will?
How does one live with the knowledge that there is no purpose?
How can one sustain an existence, or a chosen set of values when this is true?
How does one cope with the nihilism that is part of the discovery of the fact that we are only floating dust and nothing more, and that there is no choice and nothing that makes the choice for us?

I'm currently trying to write a blues poem but feel so enveloped in the blues that it's a bit hard to actually write anything at all (blues poem is actually blues lyrics, there is no difference).

Sometimes I wonder if I have the right to feel deeply disturbed but then I realize how privileged I am, even under all of this. I'm not sure where to stand. Some say I do not need the right, I can feel how I want. I am conscious of the complications of things. But getting through the school and work week has become almost unbearable for me. Socializing has become unbearable. Going into my new job has been unbearable, and the store hasn't even opened yet. I really hope this fades.

I guess when my brother starts having seizures again, my dad is diagnosed with a lifelong illness, my apartment catches on fire and I receive lung problems, my apartment becomes infested with fleas and causes my cat's hair to fall out, my unfortunate apartment events lead me to have to move unexpectedly a week before classes start, my adviser tells me I am graduating a semester late, my two aunts and grandpa are dying and I receive emails about how one of them is suffering immensely and her skin is disintegrating, my psychological issues due to my ex boyfriend become unbearable and my realization that I truly hate Kansas City and need to start working on leaving comes to full fruition... well you know, it causes a person to start to lose their mind. Not to mention with added stresses of having to deal with another semester of classes I do not like and a new job. It seems that while many aspects of my life have improved since the mutual breakup with my ex and I back in January, most of everything else has gotten worse. I have more genuine support but an immense load of new problems to deal with. This isn't just "responsibilities" and "adult life" this is something different.

Needless to say, I am pretty certain that I am testing myself at this point. I am checking in to see how much I can handle as life starts to become a little more chaotic. How many responsibilities do I really care about? What do I really value here? What are my actual priorities here? I just know that as every single week goes by I am not the same person I was before. I have to dig into reserves that weren't there before. I am certain that when something breaks and someone dies or I become seriously injured, I am unsure of I will be stable enough to continue any of what I am doing right now. Sometimes I crave for something to happen just so I can have an excuse to lay it all to rest and start over. Is that too morbid? It's something I am not ashamed of. But I am certain that due to the karma I have accrued due to making a line of bad choices I will have to live through this like every other working person. I will have to endure it until I'm ready to throw it up for the rest of my life. At least I will be guaranteed not to make the same mistake again. I know that if I try to smile my way through it, and quit throwing temper tantrums, I will receive some kind of reason for the entire experience even if it is for one minute, one measly little moment on the scale of my life.

As I do know, there is nothing important about me. There is nothing about me that's different. I'm just a teensy bit of dust in a chaotic, not so planned out universe. There is no god and there is no free will. Science is telling us that now. There is none of it. There is no intention. There is nothing but things. This isn't suicide, it's just reality. Knowing this, I believe in nothing but whatever is rumbling in my heart somewhere. I'm just going to start listening to it, so this doesn't happen again. Just a heart and this energy that is keeping me alive. I believe in what I can see and feel in my immediate experience, because without it, I would be dead. Despite the lack of free will, I choose to do it instead because I have to survive.

This can't fucking sustain itself. It can't. I'm moving to Chicago. I'm closing my eyes and will wake up two years from now with the sun rising through my window and two cats by my side and the realization that all of this was not for nothing. I hope.