The Point of Life

The point of life: to live. The other point of life: to love. But is loving living? And is living loving? Is it worth living your life to love? Or is it loving your life to live? Is it both? Or is that impossible? Do we have to choose? Or does it come naturally? Is loving something we always know how to do? Or do we learn how to love? Is living something we know how to do? Or do we learn how to live? Are we vulnerable either way? Or do we do that to ourselves? Do people hate living? Or is it that they hate loving? Either way, aren’t they both points of life? Either way, can people hate both? Or is that too, impossible? Do we love to hate? And do we hate to love? Is it worth hiding your feelings because you’re afraid of love? Or is it worth hiding your feelings because you’re scared to live your life? If living your life means you have to love, how many of us would stop life? If loving people means you have to live, how many of us would stop loving? Maybe all of us. Maybe none of us. How many of us want to love, but were scared of the pain that follows? How many of us what to live, but were scared of the pain that follows? How many people want to die because of love? How many people want to love because of death? Maybe all of us. Maybe none of us. Do you think we’ll ever know? Or is that too, impossible?