Turning 26 (on 12/14/2020).

If the ending of life is death, then the meaning of life is a creative fight to destroy oneself — that’s Freud’s Thanatos and Eros.

Looking retrospectively on my 25th year into the destruction, or rather the creation of something to destroy later, I found 2020 to be the year of minimal change and minimal creation. Pandemic began in March, and I’ve been at home since then, repeating day to day just to pass the time.

Emotions became more acute as isolation became normal. What I got anxious about is too much material goods that exist but not useful. I have too many clothes to wear, too many shoes to walk in, too many dishes to use.

Throwing away trash makes me realize it’s another week. New week new trash. Then I started thinking about how much one needs to create throughout one’s life to mitigate the material goods that one consumes. Have I justified the wastes I have created?

Perhaps not, or definitely not. The value I’m creating is... doubtful, except the fact that I’m consuming. Perhaps life is no more than consumption itself, or is life just creating wastes then destroying them?

So 26, another year to go bravely into the destruction.