ON PURPOSE: an essay in seven parts (2/7)

II. The Meaning of Life

As I am hastily approaching a quarter century of life on this Earth I am aggrieved by an existential crisis irreconcilable to me, illogical to all those who think they understand me, and even more specious to others. Maybe I am just a perfectionist unable to get a grip that this world is not the way I imagined it to be. That everything in this world is process and paperwork. That as you get older things get more and more complicated. That the more and more people you meet the more and more you lose faith in relations of any kind.

When attempting to ideate the purpose to living I am reminded of the 2007 film “Wristcutter’s: A Love Story” directed by Goran Dukić. Taking place in a purgatory for suicide offenders, the protagonist, Zia, is driven to slit his wrists to prove something to his former girlfriend, but after a few months he realized the whole suicide thing just made him miss her and love her more. He did not even prove anything–not even one thing! He befriends Eugene, who “offed” by electrocuting himself on stage by pouring beer into his electric guitar while being booed offstage. The odd thing is Eugene’s whole family ended up here. His mother offed because after moving to America she missed Russia too much. His father offed because he could not bear living without his wife, but really, the last straw was discovering his youngest son was homosexual. Eugene‘s younger brother offed due to an overdose. The viewer never learns the cause of this. I guess it just runs in the family. One thing we do learn is that the younger brother tried to off himself after losing a soccer match as a child. He could not understand how his team lost when they were better. He could not understand what’s the purpose of life if life is so unfair? He threatened hanging himself if Eugene did not give him one good reason. Eugene just slapped him across the face and, somehow, that was enough.

Zia and Eugene set off on a road trip in search of Zia’s girlfriend from life who he heard had recently offed. At the onset of their journey they pick-up a hitchhiker, Mikhal:

Mikhal; I am looking for the PFC.
Eugene: The PFC?
Mikhal: Yeah…you know the people in charge…because I got here by accident.
Eugene: What do you think this is? Some country club where you can just go stroll into the main office?
Zia: Eugene! What? …You don’t like it here?
Mikhal: Are you kidding? Who likes a place where you’re not even allow to smile. It’s hot as balls. Everyone’s an a——.
Eugene: Well tell me, when you were living did you go looking for God?
Mikhal: No, but back then I didn’t have a reason too.

This scene always hits home. Since an early age I always felt life in general was one big accident. But no one does anything about it. Not may people seek out meaning. Most people go on living their lives doing the same exact things day after day with no questions asked. I could never understand those people. I do not think I will ever be able to find contentment. I think I will always be in search for something higher.

For fun, let us just for a moment assume there were such a thing as a spirit living on eternally. What if we all existed before in some another form but we just could not recall? What if I really did end up in this realm by accident instead of some another (better) realm? Would I go out searching for the PFC to explain myself and go back to where I came from? Is my search for something higher evidence that I am here by accident? Or am I just wasting my time on finding a purpose when purpose could just as well be petty inconsequence?