What do we live for?

What do we live for?

Any of us? All of us?

“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.
“Nothing,” I said.
“You have to make a living,” she answered.
“There are other passengers”.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

. Please read the whole article, its deeply moving.

How can someone who believes there is no ultimate goal, be so sure of himself measuring others? how can someone who thinks himself in-tune with the notion of the butterfly effect, even ponder an intent to measure?

How can we guess what is needed of us? How can we work for moments we never know might arrive? Ideas, we will never know where even worth achieving?

Who are we to say we are driven by a righteous ideal? How can we know?

Since we can't, we are blinded into trusting through faith; of any sort, not just religiously...

I wish I could help someone out as much as this man, or as my father. Trustingly, hoping somehow your actions take flight and fulfil other's happiness or dreams, not by oppressing others into doing things my way. (or any way I deem myself as righteous or correct; for who the hell am I?!) :(