I

Why am I here? Who am I? Why am I myself and not somebody else? The very thought of the concept of I seems to be nonsense if you think of it. I deem myself to be I, but so does everybody else to themselves. So which I am I? Why do I care about this I who is nothing more than one I amongst so many others? What or who would I be if I wasn't me? Why do I crave happiness? Or, rather, what's happiness? I wonder whether happiness really exists or is just an escape our minds create from the emptiness of the nonsense that life is. After all, I'm I only for myself. Everybody is their own I. We are so insignificant for the universe and yet we create our own universe inside us. A universe that is so huge, maybe even bigger than the cosmos itself. I'm actually quite aware of that, nevertheless I can't think of any other way of thinking. I can't see myself as just a lost point in the universe. I can't just not care. I want to flee from myself, but wherever I go, I'm there. And I'm there not as a random being. I'm I. I'm always carrying that burden. I can't just shoulder it. Happiness. Always seeking that. What does it matter? I don't know. It's maybe a curse we have. I need to be happy, even though I don't even know what happiness is. Do salmons know what they're going to do at the end of their colossal voyage up the river? Do they know what they're risking their lives for? I don't believe so. But they still do it. They still find the necessity to do it. I chase happiness like a salmon eager to find its way up the river. I don't know what I'm chasing.