one of those days when you want to be so "philosophical"

So many ideas come along, get around my brain, keep me awake all night sometimes, agonize me all through the day until finally they give up and limp away into oblivion. Never to be remembered again. If by some chance, it was thought of, that would be when the talk would be of the dead, the long gone.

So many people are jealous of me. I am jealous of many more. Yet jealousy from either side makes no sense. Everyone who has known life enough knows that it doesn't make sense to be jealous of anyone. Everyone's life has a few shining moments. Everyone's life is messed up. Basically everyone's life is just that. Life.
With too many pauses, sleeps, too many boring details in between, yet dragging on until finally there comes the big sleep. All right, I dont want to be thinking about the big sleep yet. I feel I'm too young. But then again, I've always felt I'm too young to think about that. Everyone always thinks they are too young to think about it until one day they find out that they are too old already to have thought about it and done something when they were still young. By the time they come to accept that death is eventual and they should live their life to the fullest, much of the time has already gone by. Or at least that's what we are made to believe. That you are stuck and there's no way you can repair the damage. Growing old, grown old, shrunk, mid-life crisis.

Is there ever a phase in the miserable human life when there is not branding of one or another sort, expectation of one or another sort, where you are supposed to be truly at peace with what you are, who you are, what you have? A child does not know enough about the world, an adolescent is too problematic, a college student is not entitled to opinions, a working professional has higher posts to be promoted to, a married person has to make children, elderly folk they are already dying. Isn't is sort of like chasing the end of rainbow? There's a pot of gold at the end of rainbow, but hey wait a minute, rainbow does not have an end. Its an illusion.

Me with my thousand and one ideas nearly squashing the life out of me, yet I shoo away all of them because I still haven't figured out how to get around the vanity of life. It is just easier to not think about anything, and just sleep through your days. But then there's this fear of one day waking up and realizing that life has already passed by, you are old, and now you will never have the chance to call back those ideas, work with them, test whether they win out over the vanity of life. Whether those ideas could have actually put a purpose in living this utterly meaningless vain dream called life!