Frustration.

Sigh, sometimes I wonder why I bother living. Ultimately the grand question in life which no one can ever answer, unless they have died. What is the purpose and meaning of life?

Scientifically, what is it to live and hope and dream? It is nothing but a collection of instincts, neural impulses stimulated by the mind, programmed and wired within the genetics. A chaos of unpredictability that when cast upon the masses, evens out and becomes reason and logic through natural selections of biasness and environmental factors.

Why is there a need for war, why is there a need for an army? Why is there a need to be better than your fellow human beings in self-centred values? Why wealth, power, influence, looks. It all doesn't matter in the end, because everything will move on. Everything will die with time. The only inevitable, is change.

Is life about treasuring what we have while we live? But those very thoughts and actions are but electrical impulses within chemical compounds. Elements. Millions of complex structures of atoms, carbon, hydrogen, oxygen etc. What is real?

I feel life is pointless, because the masses do not value life for what it is.

But what is life.

I know not.