What is the purpose of life?

To love. To care and cater to others. To give out the effort required to do this until it becomes effortless. To give yourself out until there’s no more “I” left.

But why? This seems so unnatural. “I” is the only thing “I” knows.

Because everything else (please note: everything) is, or will shortly become dull and boring and unfulfilling. Everything you do for yourself is great and should be done. Just don’t expect any of it to keep on making you happy on the long run.

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