It is impossible for you to choke yourself to death with your bare hands. Your body won't let you. It's not a conscious effort that forces in that breath at the last second, it's your body's basic survival instinct kicking in, something our brains overrode long ago. It is one of the few things left to remind us that our brains do not exert full control over the body. The first being to look at the stars and realize how insignificant he is was the first to break the natural progression of life. Our lives didn't come to be to make money, to raise a family, or even change the world. We weren't ever meant to meet strangers, and your body granting life to you another day isn't so you can go and talk to friends you haven't said a word to in years. No, it's saying never mind the problems this arbitrary civilization hath wrought you; you're here to reproduce, just like everyone else.
Besides, all humans are, at the least, the same. Yet we still protest for basic rights. Whether it's women's pay, or men and women loving the same sex, or any infinite number of inequalities, we are taught that we are all different by almost anything we’ll listen to. We need to just step back and realize two men falling in love is still love, and frankly, if there's a God that can't realize something as basic as that, then that's a God not worth believing in.
So now, which is better... Lack of knowledge, or war? Reproduce for your bloodline, or sex from lust? Feeding a loyal tribe, or fighting for a cause against monolithic oppressors with people you’ve never met? Live without ever contemplating death, or letting the thought consume you? We are human, and there is not, nor ever will be, a religious text or scientific lecture to say we are anything less than beyond comprehension. To think that the entire reason we got to this point in thought was realizing that we don't matter, we will inevitably die, and that the universe will not so much as change to an infinitely small degree is sobering at the least. This rightfully scares us, and prompts the question of why we are even here. What cruel God would create a species capable of becoming Gods themselves when it is all to no avail? Why watch innocent children martyr themselves to kill people who simply live in a different region, with different imaginary lines scarring the Earth? We are so afraid of death, and so advanced as a people, that we embrace it and play it off as door to paradise and let the only place every person has ever known, burn.
We learn. We love. We struggle. We mourn. We move on. We forget. We die. The end. The events of life and our behaviors will never be fully grasped, but they do begin and end the same way; in an infinite nothingness. Fundamentally, every single one of us is the same. We live, we love, we die. Can it get much more human than that? Why do we need money, or attention, or power, to “function”? After all of this, I only have one question... If we are to strive for civilization while forgoing our own humanity, what kind of life are we really after?