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Life, Randomness, and the Absurdity of Existence


I just finished watching The Good Place, and honestly, this show has made me think about a lot of stuff. I feel like reincarnation is much less torturous than eternity in heaven or hell. Because I don’t think eternity should exist in any sense - eternity in any form is going to be torture. There’s no end. At least life on Earth has the simulation of an end, and that keeps us going.

Even after that end, if our memories are wiped and we’re put into a new body to experience a different life, that’s not as bad as eternity in heaven or hell. I think the ending of the show is absolutely amazing. The whole show is literally a piece of art. The idea of designing an afterlife where you can choose to return your soul to the universe was brilliant. Extremely clever.

And it reinforces my whole point: the reason we embrace life right now is because we’re promised an end - because we’re scared it will end. The same thing in heaven: as soon as people had the choice to end their soul’s existence, everyone’s life in "The good place" got better. I’m pretty sure that would happen in real life too.

The same thing happens here on Earth. We do have the choice to end our lives, but most of us don’t. Why? For two reasons:

  1. We don’t know what’s going to happen after.

  2. We’re afraid of missing out on what could have been.

Death is inevitable. So why shorten the already short amount of time we have?

                                                                                       ***

And then there’s the bigger picture. If the universe started with the first atom - hydrogen - and everything spawned from there, then we are all made of the same cloth. Everything on Earth, even the Earth itself, came from the same thing that gave us life. Once we die, our existence returns to the universe, though in what form we don’t know. On Earth, at least, our body returns to the soil - technically giving back to the universe, since the Earth was made from the universe. The fact that our bodies are made of components forged in the cores of stars is fascinating. Awfully fascinating.

But that raises the question: what makes us us if humans are products of their environment? What truly belongs to us when all that external stuff is stripped away? Even our internal organs can be given to others without making them “us.” I’m still me if I donate my kidneys to someone else. We can never truly prove what belongs to “me,” because I’m already an amalgamation of the experiences, environments, and people I’ve been exposed to.

Would I still be “me” if I were born into a different family, social status, country, time period, or timeline? If nothing belongs to me, then what’s the purpose?

People are different, though. Even identical twins - same body, same DNA, same environment - are different. They have their own personalities. So people are different… but why? What is it about us that makes us different? Will we ever know?

                                                                                     ***

And here’s the kicker: my own physical existence is probability. If I wasnt concieved at a particular moment I would not have existed someone else would be here instead of me and I would never know. Who would have existed instead of me if they had conceived on a different day? The fact is, my existence is pure randomness. My personality is randomness. Everything is randomness.

If any one of my ancestors had decided not to have kids, I wouldn’t be here. And my future descendants are dependent on me. If I choose not to have children, maybe that prevents a future scientist in my bloodline from changing the world. That’s insane.

                                                                                     ***

Life is so messed up. The only reason everyone isn’t in a constant existential crisis is because we live in blissful ignorance. If you take one second to really think about how absurd it all is, you’d be in an existential spiral forever.

And maybe existence itself comes down to perception. Something only matters to me if I know it exists - because I’m basically the main character of my own life’s universe. The world wouldnt exsist to me If I was never born so does that mean - atleast the part of the world relevant to me - wouldnt exist just because I am not there to percieve it?

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