life's blah

There is so much mystery that revolves around death. And yet it is so simple. Our body expires when the last breath leaves our tired shell. Or sometimes it is robbed long before our shell is exhausted. Perhaps Life is more often a mystery than death.

Why are we here?

I don't know. I can barely rely on myself for an answer. Did God put us here so some of us would live to know the meaning of happiness, while the other half would live only to know the meaning of suffering? That's not a fair question. God isn't the blame for everything.

Who are we?

I don't know an answer to that question either. Put it on any examination paper, you'll probably get 10,000 different smartarse answers from 10,001 smartarses. That one smartarse i missed out would probably walk out of that examination hall and ask you the very same question in a different manner: "Who the hell do you think you are to grade us based on a question you can't even answer yourself?"

Ah bugger... what's the point of all this? Let's talk about Christmas...