Worth

I'd like to say confidently that there is nothing worth believing in in this world.  That everything we see is without meaning. I'd like to say it because I can finally admit it is what I feel and rather than feeling hopeless about that, I prefer to feel a sort of redemption that has attached itself to it.  A hope sprung from inside myself, that what I'm feeling is worth acknowledging, that the highest of authorities rests in the commonest of faculties, the human mind.  The human heart.  I've been looking over my writing and I know how inaccessible it can be for other people, but I know how therapeutic and necessary it is for me.  Searching for any idea worthy enough to hold me, carry me on its shoulders and bring me back to the safe places I once knew.  That was the redemption I sought- yet what I found is the broken do not get made whole by witnessing brokenness around them, and brokenness is all I see.  It is not a brokenness that makes life not worth living but it is a brokenness that makes the world that much more complicated.  Convoluted may be a better word.  Life, mine in particular collects so much junk, I've been taught to be so inefficient.  All I've seen in this world is attempts at better wasting time, what little we even have, and I thought there was meaning, meaning even in that like it was a service of love to society to take comfort in the work of your hands, the sweat of your brow and the pleasure of the American Dream.  I've considered the idea that even meaninglessness has meaning.  I have considered the idea that there is meaning in loving others, but what does love mean?  Does it mean giving them the life they want?  Does it mean searching out who they are?  Getting to know them behind the meaninglessness?  Who is anyone without the blanks we fill in by what we do?  Who am I and why can't I accept the definition of lazy, unmotivated, blind, ignorant, worthless?  Why can't I just give up who I am and pursue meaninglessness?  I can tell you; it is because I have meaning.  It is because you have meaning.  One single solitary note, not of a rhyme or rhythm but poetic.  The social network of people who matter, not for their practical value but for their inherent value.  I ask the world what means anything, and the answer I get is that everything is meaningless but peace.  Where can we live without the fight?