Existential Crisis

Some 10-12 years back we three friends sat back late in the night contemplating the purpose of life.
One had gone through a painful break up and betrayal, the other made plans to go and settle overseas and me who had nothing going on. The circumstance we met was indeed an happy occasion (so i would like to believe), our 4th friend's wedding. The plan was for all 4 of us to unwind before the wedding but it was us 3.

That question still haunts me and the answer is still elusive. I evaded the answer at that time and over the years i continued doing so. You see people try to fill their life with a purpose, that could be fame, fortune, family, God, etc. what I have come to realise is, purpose is like carrot dangling on a stick in front of you and tied to yourself, one step forward you think you are coming closer but the carrot moves the same distance ahead, You are never gonna get there. So it a continuous thing with no end.
some people are content with that but not me!

The other way people try to solve this is set goals that can be achieved, like education, House, Car, Marriage, Kids, etc. the issue I have with this is, one has to keep finding new goals and achieving previous Goals does not necessarily mean it was the purpose of life

For example my goal during college time was to find a job and have some money so i could spend time with friends. The goal came about as I was broke and i could not socialise much as i couldn't afford even a sandwich and soft drink and I had too much of self respect to be a free loader. So somehow i applied myself and got the money now where i can hang with friends, but the irony is I don't have that many friends left anymore as they are scattered or they are busy with their new Goals :) so what was the point of it all?

The hard fact is that we are an empty Glass, and we try to fill it with something to give a purpose to this glass. I am meant to hold water or Beer. But when life drains the glass empty what next? refill - and then what? repeat is that really the secret of Life?

Running this feeling I came across this statement - "It is possible to live only as long as life intoxicates us; once we are sober we cannot help seeing that it is all a delusion, a stupid delusion! "

Its a quote from "confessions - Leo Tolstoy". Reading the excerpt it echoes the same sentiment and i guess I have sobered up, Or like in the movie - The Matrix - I have taken the Red Pill.

This is what Leo Tolstoy wrote about it - 

Leo Tolstoy:

"...five years ago something very strange began to happen to me. At first I began having moments of bewilderment, when my life would come to a halt, as if I did not know how to live or what to do; I would lose my presence of mind and fall into a state of depression. But this passed, and I continued to live as before. Then the moments of bewilderment recurred more frequently, and they always took the same form. Whenever my life came to a halt, the questions would arise: Why? And what next?

At first I thought these were pointless and irrelevant questions. I thought that the answers to them were well known and that if I should ever want to resolve them, it would not be too hard for me; it was just that I could not be bothered with it now, but if I should take it upon myself, then I would find the answers. But the questions began to come up more and more frequently, and their demands to be answered became more and more urgent . . .

The questions seemed to be such foolish, simple, childish questions. But as soon as I laid my hands on them and tried to resolve them, I was immediately convinced, first of all, that they were not childish and foolish questions but the most vital and profound questions in life, and, secondly, that no matter how much I pondered them there was no way I could resolve them. Before I could be occupied with my Samara estate, with the education of my son, or with the writing of books, I had to know why I was doing these things. As long as I do not know the reason why, I cannot do anything. In the middle of my concern with the household, which at the time kept me quite busy, a questions would suddenly come into my head: "Very well, you will have 16,200 acres in the Samara province, as well as 300 horses; what then?" And I was completely taken aback and did not know what else to think. As soon as I started to think about the education of my children, I would ask myself, "Why?" Or I would reflect on how the people might attain prosperity, and I would suddenly ask myself, "What concern is it of mine?" Or in the middle of thinking about the fame that my works were bringing me I would say to myself, "Very well, you will be more famous than Gogol, Pushkin, Shakespeare, Moliere, more famous than all the writers in the world - so what?

And I could find absolutely no reply.My life came to a stop. I could breathe, eat, drink, and sleep; indeed, I could not help but breathe, eat, drink, and sleep. But there was no life in me because I had no desires whose satisfaction I would have found reasonable. If I wanted something, I knew beforehand that it did not matter whether or not I got it.

If a fairy had come and offered to fulfill my every wish, I would not have known what to wish for. If in moments of intoxication I should have not desires but the habits of old desires, in moments of sobriety I knew that it was all a delusion, that I really desired nothing. I did not even want to discover truth anymore because I had guessed what it was. The truth was that life is meaningless . . .

The only thing that amazed me was how I had failed to realize this in the very beginning. All this had been common knowledge for so long. If not today, then tomorrow sickness and death will come (indeed, they were already approaching) to everyone, to me, and nothing will remain except the stench and the worms. My deeds, whatever they may be, will be forgotten sooner or later, and I myself will be no more. Why, then, do anything? How can anyone fail to see this and live? That's what is amazing! It is possible to live only as long as life intoxicates us; once we are sober we cannot help seeing that it is all a delusion, a stupid delusion! Nor is there anything funny or witty about it; it is only cruel and stupid."

- excerpt from Confession