Everything will end, not only my life but also this Earth, this galaxy, and perhaps even this universe. Everything will become a dark and silent void. The path towards that inevitable end is still distant, yet eerily close. Once my life is over, I will be oblivious to anything else, reduced to a lifeless body destined to decompose and vanish, leaving no trace behind. I often find myself wondering why I exist in the first place. I understand the 'how' of my existence but remain oblivious to the 'why.' Perhaps I am not significant enough to warrant a purpose. I am merely a product of countless random chances, fortunate enough to possess the capacity for thought. If I had never existed, nothing would have changed, and the world would be no different. That's the extent of my insignificance. Fear has always gripped me—fear of eternal nothingness, fear of silence. Even if I were granted a chance to have a purpose, I question whether I would possess the strength to pursue
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