Life Happens.--Jonathan

Around the seventh grade, my viewpoint on everything started to change. I started asking myself about aliens, religion, science, and overall, the meaning of life. I soon stopped believing in god and in everything really. Things just stopped making sense after this point.
I remember one time I was at lunch eating my ham and cheese sandwich. The sun was out and reflecting off my sweaty little forehead. I was sitting with a group of friends, all of which a grew away from, and they were talking about church, god, and eating cookies with wine or whatever they do. They went on to ask me what religion I was. I replied saying that my family is catholic but I don’t really consider myself anything. So one of them was like “so you don’t believe in god?” and I answered saying “not really.” This next part is kind of funny just because kids are kind of stupid but they all looked at me in horror. One of them was even like “He’s a devil worshipper!” and they were all freaking out. I cleared it up saying that I just don’t believe in anything and they were still confused because they had the idea printed into their heads that everyone had to believe in something but I was like, whatever.
I was in a private catholic school up until the third grade. Boy, it was hell. The classrooms were old, the wall paper was peeling off, and the teachers hated everything. I had a teacher named Mrs. Tune and she would only get out of her desk to go to the bathroom and eat. As I breathed, I could feel the dust building up in my lungs, praying it would suffocate me just enough to knock me out until school the school day was over. Once a month we would go to this thing called mass and sit in this building listening to a man dressed in all white tell stories out of some book to his audience. While he spoke, I didn’t listen. It was so unbearably boring. I preferred to look at the art made into the windows. After, the teacher would quiz the students and

I on whatever the guy was talking about and his stories. I never cared to listen. I couldn’t wait to get to public school where religion wouldn’t be bringing down my gpa every trimester. (Religion was an actual class at this school). This little anecdote should tell you that my religious struggle dates back a decade.
Since middle school I’ve decided that life has no meaning. Why would it anyway? Family is supposed to be sacred but through my experience it means nothing. Don’t even get me started on diseases. I doubt if there was an all good and all powerful god he would give cancer alzheimer's or dementia to good people who I love the most. I have known beautiful people that have been raped, depressed, and addicted. Then there’s war, hunger, my AP physics tests and all of these other horrible things that are bigger than me. But not once has life ever stopped for anything.
All in all, the only thing we can do is move on and laugh it off. I am actually a very happy person. This might contrast with what was written previously but really, I feel free. Since I know life has no set meaning or purpose, I have the power to do what I want. Life doesn’t owe me anything and I do not have to give it back anything in return. I can laugh about all of these things because I know that none of it will matter tomorrow. Everything is temporary. We may get another life, we may not. Whocares. We won’t know until we're dead anyway. So moral of the story: life happens, people die, private school sucks and and nothing matters, so live how you want or don’t, I don’t care.