When a baby cries, why do we feel potential. Like we know that his life is the best its ever going to be right now. And we ponder telling them that life only gets worse but we stop short, fearing maybe then he'll always cry.
If when we are born it is a marvelous accident, then why do we scoff at oblivion. Why do we strive to be more than those who came before and why the hell are we concerned with disproving heaven. Why exactly can we find meaning in a place that was formed out of chaos.