He wanted more from life, wasn't there more to life. He was disillusioned, he wanted to know why he existed. What was the point to life. Why did we live, what was our purpose. What was the universe and what was our part in it. He looked at the mirror, studying his reflection. What was he doing with his life, why did his life matter at all?
The raindrops slid down the window pane barely leaving a trail. The air was heavy with morning dew. He didn't know how long he stood there, she was lying on her side, her head buried in the pillows, ensconced in the comfort only a winter morning can give. He watched her sleep before turning to the window again. He had been in this world for two and a half decades and what did he have to show for it. NOTHING. No one would know he lived, he would barely be a memory after his remains were interred. He didn't care, he would be dead. But the prospect of being known, the prospect of being famous when he was alive always ate at him. He wanted to do something with his life, he wanted to live. He wanted to live for himself, not for the perception of others. He wanted recognition, not fame, he wanted peers not fans. He wanted to be more than just a man. He wanted his life to mean something.
He heard thunder splitting the sky in two. He looked up at the sky and smiled. But then again, his life didn't matter, his actions didn't matter. He was just an insignificant speck in the grand cosmic scheme. He was nothing in The universe, not even a microscopic speck Why was he alive? Why did his life matter?
Download Complete, his computer glowed from the corner of the room. Finally, his Netflix was done streaming.
He sat down in front of his computer and thought no more.
The raindrops slid down the window pane barely leaving a trail. The air was heavy with morning dew. He didn't know how long he stood there, she was lying on her side, her head buried in the pillows, ensconced in the comfort only a winter morning can give. He watched her sleep before turning to the window again. He had been in this world for two and a half decades and what did he have to show for it. NOTHING. No one would know he lived, he would barely be a memory after his remains were interred. He didn't care, he would be dead. But the prospect of being known, the prospect of being famous when he was alive always ate at him. He wanted to do something with his life, he wanted to live. He wanted to live for himself, not for the perception of others. He wanted recognition, not fame, he wanted peers not fans. He wanted to be more than just a man. He wanted his life to mean something.
He heard thunder splitting the sky in two. He looked up at the sky and smiled. But then again, his life didn't matter, his actions didn't matter. He was just an insignificant speck in the grand cosmic scheme. He was nothing in The universe, not even a microscopic speck Why was he alive? Why did his life matter?
Download Complete, his computer glowed from the corner of the room. Finally, his Netflix was done streaming.
He sat down in front of his computer and thought no more.
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