Why do people plant apple trees when the world is going to end tomorrow?
But even if the world doesn’t end tomorrow, and the tree I planted lives for thousands of years,
what does that really mean?
After all, the universe, this world, will end someday.
Nothing has any meaning.
Ah—my heart!
In fact, our reality isn’t all that different from the world ending tomorrow.
(Am I going to die so futilely like this?)
There’s no guarantee that I won’t die tomorrow.
It’s hard, but somehow fulfilling.
Maybe in about five years, apples will finally grow?
What truly matters is filling the time I’ve been given with the things I find meaningful.
