rrraksamam

We lived in a world where people were expendable. We lived in a world where love wasn't as important as sex. People got together based on sexual compatibility, and they fell apart due to sexual incompatibility. Love? People didn't need love if they could just have sex. I couldn't be that way.

I stared at the glass in front of me, lost in my thoughts. The chatter of the strangers in the background kept me company. “You haven't touched your drink,” the bartender commented, as she casually made someone a drink. She was blonde. With sparkling blue eyes, and an easy smile. “I don't drink,” I said softly. “Can I get you something else?” she asked. “No,” I shook my head, “I'm fine, thanks.” She gave me a long look, then went back to work.

I didn't want to be alone. I'd walked down a couple of blocks. It was freezing cold outside, and so I decided to walk into the bar, and sit there for a while. Laughter echoed throughout the room. A group of young men sitting behind me, probably had too many drinks. Loud, young, cheerful and obnoxious. I remained unfazed, staring at the glass.

What was the purpose of life? So many people passed away everyday. Has any of them found meaning in their lives? A sense of purpose? Did they know where they were heading? The world was in a rat race. Millions of people rushing to work each morning, crammed up in trains and buses, crowding the streets with traffic. Did they have any meaning in their lives, other than mere survival? Money. That's all that mattered. Everybody wanted money. But even those that had millions and billions, were still engaged in the rat race. Elon Musk was still sleeping in his factory, and his Twitter office. Even with all that money, his life didn't appear to be peaceful. At least not to me. But who was I to know? I couldn't read his mind. Perhaps he found peace in the rat race. Some people were addicted to work, and stressful environments. They couldn't sit still without doing anything. They needed to be active, all the time. What kind of life was that? I couldn't understand. Perhaps I was too stupid.

Did anyone really have everything they wanted in life? Or were we all in a state of perpetual dissatisfaction? Sometimes it seemed like no matter how much we had, it was never enough. We wanted more, and more, and more. Then we died. And everything we spent our lives accumulating was passed off to someone else. Did anyone take the time to enjoy and cherish the fruits of their labor? Or were we all stressed about the next thing we wanted?

I turned and looked around the room. Did any of these people have such thoughts? Would they understand what I was thinking about?