Chapter: 0 "My thoughts on life"
"In the embrace of eternal oblivion, one finds solace from the monotony of life's repetitive dance." - Sylvia Evergreen
It was a chill-inducing winter evening. As always, the streets of the northeastern part of Ekaref were covered in snow, trampled on by travelers and merchants passing through the capital, all in pursuit of paintings and perhaps some good time with the street girls.
Walking through the streets, I traversed a dark alleyway filled with the pungent smell of stale beer and steak. Metting with the gaze of the people passing by, their eyes were dull and expression sunken. A face that was far from being alive, as though all their dreams of a bright future and great opportunities had long been lost in the repetitive day-to-day life.
For them, no colors remained in this dull world to enjoy, nor the leisure to stay up late at night to gaze at the Moon and its subjects. All left for them to gaze upon was a large, emotionless factory building spewing smoke and dumping waste into the river.
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Ahead of me, a young lad, not even twelve, was collecting withered leaves and discarded newspapers. He appeared cheerful despite having a skinny and small build, likely a new scavenger hired by wealthy men or the local government for minimum wage to clean the neighborhood.
What a pity. This lad would not live past his mid-twenties if he keeps on working as a scavenger.
Looking below the bridge, I saw mud-larks collecting valuables among the piles of garbage on the banks of the Vaisa River. Once a beautiful sight to behold, an inspiration for many famous artists who came to Ekaref, she was now nothing more than a dumping site.
It was disappointing and depressing to see humans destroying nature to gain whatever conveniences they needed and all I could think of was how similar of a life I have led. Doing anything to gain a better position at work, that was how I lived.
But having a better-paying and more stable job than those factory workers, who looked like they had risen from random graves, didn't mean I was enjoying life. In fact, no matter how well-paid I was, enjoyment and life never seemed to fit well in one sentence for me. Being a well paid middle class didn't meant escaping the repetitive daily schedule.
The only escape for me from this colorless world was books, one of the luxuries us middle class could afford.
In the end, even they started to feel repetitive.