Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about what’s the point of living. Why go through all the difficulties and heartache just so you can die. What’s the point of being able to say you had a happy life? It doesn’t matter. Because you’ll be dead before you can tell someone and that person and everyone they tell will die eventually and their thoughts will have no affect on what’s to come in earth’s future anyways. And if I could ask for anything and have a for sure correct answer, it would be, “what is the universe and is there a point to it?” But I know no one will ever be able to answer that for me. So why live.