The Necessity of purpose

Well, in writing anything, I have found out that purpose is extremely important, if you don't have some sort of purpose for your paper, essay, short story, novel, or any piece of writing, then that piece of writing will be non-sensical and incoherent. So the story I am currently working on has a purpose. My purpose is to learn to write with purpose, so this story is slightly ironic because of that. Here is my rough draft beginning:





Once upon a time, there was a man. His name was Parker, and he had spent his entire life in the great white empty expanse the others called earth. He wasn't like the others; the large mob of people standing in the middle of the huge white space. Parker wondered how he was different from them, how and why. They all seemed happy, what sounded like laughter reached him from where he sat, about a hundred feet from the crowd. "They must have a reason to live," he thought,"they must be living their lives in the best way possible." He was searching for purpose, he realized. He wanted to live his life to the fullest, at least that is what he thought the purpose of life must be. He knew he wouldn't live forever, no one did. He did not want to waste his life. "The people over there, they seem to have it." Parker told himself. He envied them. They seemed to have a goal, they seemed satisfied, he wanted to feel satisfied like they did. He wanted to have the emptiness in his heart filled. Parker had spent his whole life just watching them, he had listened when he was young, but they had slowly drifted away from where he had sat, where he sat now. And then he just watched. He didn't remember what they had said, other than they seemed to know what they were doing. Like they had a sort of meaningfulness that he didn't have. He wanted his life to be more than it was, to be like them. "I am going to ask them" Parker told himself. He slowly got up, and stood, and for the first time began to walk, slowly, to the crowd before him. Parker thought he had heard laughter, but as he neared his goal, his perception began to change. The laughter became louder, sharper, and somehow...angrier. Half way there he realized that what he heard wasn't laughter, he had been mistaken. What he thought was happiness and satisfaction emanating from the throng, was instead discord, anger,...selfishness. He wanted to turn around, but he realized that the room had closed behind him, and that he could only move forward. He wished he had stayed in his place of relative quiet, But he could not get away, he could not go back. "I have to finish what I have started now." Parker told himself. He was afraid, though he was not sure of what, he approached the mob. They didn't look like they had answers, like they had what he wanted, they didn't seem to be any better off than he had been. Actually, they seemed worse. He asked them anyway. "Excuse me," fear and uncertainty tinged his voice, but the swarm of people didn't not stop. They hadn't heard him. More resolute he yelled, "Can anyone tell me...the...the purpose of life?!" The people quieted, all of the seemingly endless horde staring at him, blankly. As he looked intently at the mob of people, it seemed as if they were separated into many different groups, each of these groups held a banner, with words written on them, each banner saying a different thing. From one of these groups a man stepped forward. He was an old man, with a long flowing beard. He wore a toga, what looked like one large white tablecloth, wrapped around him and over one arm. " I know the purpose of life. Man is the measure of all things young one, Man is the purpose of life." He said this with a flourish, pointing at the people around him. But Parker remembered the angry voices, the selfishness and meanness that was so loud in his ears, only minutes before. "How can this be?" He asked. The old man answered, "Man is the greatest being, superior to everything else, the best, the strongest. So Man must create his own purpose." After a short pause the man continued, "I am a stoic, I do not let the meaningless pleasures of life distract me. I focus on doing good, I never do wrong. This is the best way to live, the only way that Man, who is himself the greatest living being, should live." the man finished, with a look of self confidence, and importance. Parker thought about this for a minute, he felt hope swelling inside him, could this be the answer he had searched for for so long? But he had a question, "But sir, what is good, or bad, wrong or right. What is morality sir?" With an arrogant smirk, the old man quickly answered, "Well, right or wrong, is what Man determines it to be, obviously! I determine morality!" The old man looked shocked, as he came to the full realization of what he had said. Behind him the groups banner that read, "Just do good for goodness sake!" Was quickly torn down, and was replaced by a banner that read,"Do whatever you want to do!" And the people in the group began to beat each other, steal from one another, the strongest people taking whatever they wanted from the weaker, doing what they determined was "good". The old man stammered, trying to take back what he had said, but he could not. Parker realized that if man was the greatest being, than what the old man had said would be true. "If man is the greatest being, determiner of everything, basically God in every meaning of the word, then there is no purpose, only anarchy." Parker realized that he would not find his answer here. Another man stepped forward, he was middle aged, with graying hair and a bald spot forming on the top of his head. He wore large glasses and a lab coat, " I know the answer. You see, I am a scientist, and all scientists agree that the purpose of life is, that there is no purpose, therefore, it must be fact that there is no purpose to life."....[and this is as much as I have written so far]