I've been asking the question "What is life?" for as long as I can remember.
I know, buried deep down in my subconscious, I have all the answers.
However, I still can't remember what I was before I was born.
They theorize that nature created memory as a tool for survival.
When a prehistoric creature needed water, it had to remember where to find it.
Logistics, and other basics in the locational related sciences were given to creatures.
However, our great thinkers do not believe memory was ever necessary for basic life.
I have to ask this question then, what is the purpose of life.
We hold on to momentos and keepsakes because they jog memories from the past
I have a few myself. I have a Sunday newspaper comics collection that spans the entire 1990's decade.
The first one that I saved on January 1st, 1990, remembers that I ripped the top right hand corner of it.
Its got a better memory than I do.
Now, Ruth is dying
I kept her around, mainly because she remembered my past.
I was so busy either obsessively working, or partying trying to clear my thoughts of coding, that life flew by too fast.
My diary and her memory was all I had to remember those times by.
Her memory WAS a little bit more colorful than my dairy, but it worked fine for me.
Now she's the last one left from a time when antics were everywhere in my life.
She remembered the fun we had with Mom, Rob, Chris, and all those people that have faded away into the darkness.
Now she's fading into the darkness too.
My torment comes from this thought
If even we don't remember our lives, if what we've done doesn't matter even to ourselves,
then is the end result of our lives simply what we accomplished.
Our independant thoughts would be like that of an ant, carrying a grain of sand to an ant hill.
- If the ends does justify the means
  Then whatever the ant did to get that grain of sand to the hill was justified, and the journey to the hill doesn't matter.
  In other words, our lives are pointless to remember. Its what we accomplished that will count in the end.
- If, however, the means justifies the ends
  Then the journey to the ant hill would be what counts.
  I just don't see that happening in nature though.
- I think what we accomplish counts and what we did to get there doesn't.
If life's purpose was the means, and not the end, then there would be a heaven, keeping track of the means, and not the ends. But that seems backwards from everything I've seen.
The concept of the ends justifying the means implies horrible things
Hitler would have been doing natures bidding by thinning out the human population.
If the human population continues to croud this planet, then murderers are doing natures bidding too,
by restoring the balance of nature.
It boggles the mind.
The saying comes to mind: If you kill one person, your a murderer. If you kill thousands, your a king.