What’s the meaning of life?

I am not suffering from any kind of depression but I have begun recently asking myself (when it feels like listening to me and it doesn’t happen often) what could be the meaning of life. Is it based on mindless and headless performance in order to meet deadlines that seem impossible to the untrained souls? Or is it based on never ending laziness, sprinkled with a tiny hint of procrastination? What is life? Some would say that it is a professional aimed at giving pleasures to one while receiving money for it (and I am having an itch writing that word, that’s how prude I am.) while others will say that it is beautiful. Both definitions of the same concept are true and I’ll employ them both in any given circumstances. However, I have come to the conclusion that life is like plutonium. If it’s not handled carefully, it will explode.  Since I am asking myself what could be the meaning of life, why don’t I also ask it what could be the meaning of that thing above our mortal heads? Note the fact that I used the word “thing” and that is because nobody knows what it looks like, which is ironic because (at least in French) there is a saying that goes “beau comme un dieu” (roughly translated: nice like a god). If I employ that saying in this context, would that mean that God (respected and adulated by billions on Earth) looks like a sex-symbol. Imagine that thing running in slow-motion, its white hair flowing in the wind and its body hidden by a red swimsuit that leaves little to mankind’s imagination. It seems that I am now falling in digression and hence, I will put an end to this 50th post on my blog. But before I go think about the next ones that I will write in the near or distant future, I would like to say that all the things you’ve read on this post are my opinion and I deeply respect those who have one different from mine.


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