I see these people walking along and I see them being shadows of their former selves, walking along because there is nothing better to do right now but to go along with the flow, follow the stream that leads to the next day, the next failure. I start to understand what people mean by the rat-race, the never-ending rush to the finish where nothing awaits but an empty coffin. I see myself rushing along with everyone to my destiny in this crazy world where  all meaning has been lost and transferred to ‘work’ which, seemingly, had a meaning of ‘play’ at one point but has lost it all and has become a repetitive monologue of empty to-do lists and stress of not having done enough. I see myself in the mirror and see a shell of myself with no meaning inside, drained by the empty promises and the missing of the one I care about the most. Just an empty shell with no reason to be other than to wait, waiting for the dark, waiting for the light, like that book by Ivan Klima. Things make no sense, but waiting doesn’t make any sense, either. It’s a mouse trap where the longer I stay the more tired I get and eventually, like all the mouses in the traps, die not through some external force, but through my own self-exhaustion.

—

I remember how much more interesting life was when you were around. We went and explored all those exciting things. Each other, the city,  art, beautiful places.