The whole point to my alter ego was to try and look at life in a less depressing way, to try to live life the way I wanted, or at least thought it should be.
Unfortunately, reality simply wouldn’t let me go, it clung on with an iron grip, forcing me to see the world as it really is, not the way I wished it would be.
People ask “What’s the meaning of life?” And the answer is just too simple: to survive. Our bodies are built to be a life support system for our reproductive organs, that’s it. We exist to simply exist and spread our genes so that they continue on forever. We live to raise our children so they may successfully pass our genes on to the next generation, and so on. So everything else in life is simply a distraction, and a pointless one at that.
Any wonder, then, that a man who has no desire to continue to breed nor the ability to raise his genetic children sees no point to any of this? I wanted to live a life where I don’t work a job I hate just to pay it all in child support and bills, to try to find some other meaning to this world and society, but I failed. There is no other point. So, King Wigglebottom is dead, has been for a while now. He was my hope for a future, and that hope is also dead.
I’ve been told I should find something I’m passionate about to occupy my time, but there simply isn’t anything left. The destruction of humanity is not a good hobby, nor is trying to bring down the Christian church, nor is trying to change the government.
I’ve also been told that I need to stop looking at the world as black and white, all or nothing, ones and zeros, and I know I need to, I just can’t figure out how.