She was staring into the glass, lost in her contemplation.
– Are you ever going to sip it? Or will you just stare at the content of your glass until the air takes all the fun out of it? - Indeed, quite the existential question. It feels like this is what we do; we invent responsibility and excuses not to live in the moment. - If you know this, why don’t you just do something about it? - Bah, too lazy, I guess. Plus, I am bored just thinking about all the soul searching I would need to do to get to that point. - You really like the sound of your own voice, don’t you?
Not really, no, but it was better than having these thoughts plaguing her every conscious moment. This infernal and impossible to escape round dance. Here she was again, her own worst enemy. Undecided. Was it better to wait the life out, dulling the pain, escaping, and watching others fight off their demons? Or was it better to live life out, running from and to an end?
She was going to do both of course, sometimes losing the battle against the tyranny of her Ego, sometimes losing it against the addictive need to feeling her heart racing from being adventurous. Ah the tyranny of the latter! Having fun: she, like most, was governed by it, kneeled before it, and yet feared the day on which it might abdicate the power it had over her.
But really, one way or another, she was missing a purpose. She was thriving for a sense of accomplishment, although most of the time unwilling to put in the effort required to owning it. Maybe she had lost herself along the way, now walking in the shoes of a stranger. There was no stopping though, it was the only non-negotiable in life: no one could turn back time.
It is crowded and dizzying. How many billions of us pressing against the glass and running toward the surface, toward the sky, and toward a promise of paradise and salvation? We were catapulted in a world where breathing often feels like drowning and in the race, we all cross the finish line only to be replaced by those born after us. What is this other realm where we are literally dying to get to?
Are we not just bubbles of Champagne, trapped in a glass, dying to reach the surface; fools not to admit that this goal means the end of the world as we know it?