What do you live for? For money? For food? For entertainment? For the people you love? Is it those connections that make you feel alive?

Do you live for the sake of living? Or do you simply keep on rotting, aimlessly wandering this realm of existence, neither truly alive but still afraid of death?

Would you feel at ease if life had meaning if your existence was not simply the result of cosmic coincidence? Would you really feel at ease if there was a greater plan, a greater purpose? Really? Honestly, the thought in itself is disgusting. So let's cut to the chase: There is neither meaning nor point to your existence or existence in general. And it's fine that way. You wouldn't be able to handle the burden otherwise, anyway. And seriously, as if any higher being would give a crap about puny humans, get real.

So if you cannot look at someone or something else to give meaning to your life, which you’re better off not having anyway, what to do then? Especially considering that most humans just crawl through life like worms until someone or something greater steps on you and crushes you under their foot.

Considering the sad state of existence we call life, what do you live for? Have you found something or someone you consider worth going through this hellhole for? Have you found something that truly makes you feel alive, not just a mere distraction? Do you truly know what being alive feels like? Does the feeling still linger when you’re alone at night? Does it last for a lifelong? Do you truly know how to live?

How about it? Have you come to terms with your pointless and meaningless existence? Some might try to give their life meaning, a purpose. Some might fight me on my opinion, but whatever. I'm the smarter one anyway, and the bigger person if you can call me that, and as the bigger person, I will be so kind as to ignore you, as all bigger people do. How kind-hearted of us. You should feel grateful.

Life, existing is pointless and meaningless. So then, what do you live for? How can you come to terms with such an existence? Have you found your answer to life?

♪

The snow falls silently, the rain pitter-patters, the wind blows, the thunder roars, and the sun does obviously not shine. It never does. The concept of sunlight is alien to this place or non-place. Call it as you like. And while there is no moonlight either, the darkness or greyness, the darkness' most common form, has several shades to it and would sometimes create the illusion of moon rays finding their way through the layer of clouds, though not really clouds. What? The weather description was incomprehensible? Well, that's on you. Just because your imagination can't deal with several weather phenomena happening at the same, er, time or something, well, the weather could care less. The collision of several phenomena is a common occurrence around here.

And through this downpour of lousy weather, a girl hops, jumping from one puddle to the next in her yellow rain boots and her yellow raincoat, and her long, pale, golden hair, which she carries out in the open despite the hood on her raincoat. The water drops from her long hair, and with every hop, her hair wildly dances through the air, splattering water in every direction. Not that it matters in the midst of the rain.

Still in her teens, the girl is a real looker, a stunning beauty, hinting at even greater beauty should she reach adulthood. Haha, yeah, I admit. That's me.

While I dance through the ruins, as I always do, with the goal to splash and splatter as much water around as possible, I aimlessly wander through the streets. There are still whole city complexes! Not just wastelands, but actual ruins of buildings, complexes, fast food restaurants, street lights, broken cars, real signs of a past civilisation! That is really rare, I tell you. And it's so much more fun to dance through actual streets, albeit somewhat broken, but that's part of the fun! It gives this awesome freedom and adventure vibe to jump onto debris and across cracks. And some city parts look suspiciously well intact, even lived in, until recently at least, never a good sign. There clearly have been people around. Enough to keep the shattered city from utterly falling into ruin.

I grimace. They really had to throw a wrench into my fun. Better be careful with people around. Usually, they're way, way worse than the native inhabitants of these non-places.

People are scary. They’re already scary enough on their own, but they’re much worse in groups. It’s like the scariness increase tenfold per additional peer. So, it’s best to avoid crowds, or perhaps packs would be the more appropriate term in that case: Like a pack of animals, they devour everything in their path. People really are scary.

But usually, they make enough of a ruckus. So avoiding them isn’t that much of a hassle. The silent ones, however, they're the ones to look out for! They don't hunt in packs. They prefer to hunt alone. And that usually requires a certain level of skill. But then again, I'm not wearing my yellow raincoat just for show! If they ignore the warning signs, who knows. The hunter might just turn into the hunted!

Raindrops keep falling on my head, and avoiding the noisy gathering of wannabe hoodlums, I move on, jumping along the puddles on the asphalt.

It really is a grey day. Grey skyscrapers, grey asphalt, grey sky. Truly, a good day to die! Grey days are good days to die! Though sunny days make for a good contrast. Especially if things get bloody. Not like there's any colour that doesn't go well with blood! And honestly, isn’t every day a good day to die? Who would, after all, after ending it, think to themselves:

Today was a bad day to die. Shouldn’t have ended it today!

Right?! No one's gonna think that! Thought that might be for different reasons.

Anyways, today, if today it is, time doesn’t like being observed all too much, she’s got some social anxiety issues, so one can never really tell, today is another grey day. As is every day, really. Every day is a grey day. Every day is a grey day filled with toxic rain. The kind of day that makes one want to end it all and leave this f***ing world behind. But not me, of course. I absolutely arduously adore grey days and toxic rain. It puts me at ease, the thought that I was right all along about humankind, and I’m always right, obviously. Ahh, today is a great day to be alive! If today it is and if I am alive. One can never tell these days.

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As I think these serious thoughts, I only ever think serious thoughts, a strange sight shows itself before me. Not a completely and absolutely unusual sight, but still a strange one. It's a funeral parade. It's a funeral parade of the soon-to-be dead of those who felt like today would be a good day to die.

Well, everyone is free to die whenever they want, right? Or so we say, and what we really mean is that, in theory, no one has the right to end or hinder our lives or force us to prolong them unless it's for the greater good, the economy or the overall social mood, and to please not bother society with our little mental problems by dying in public. Think of those around you and those that have to clean up! Or at home, think of the smell! What will the neighbours say? Or go missing. The police have more important issues to deal with! They could have just said: Please don't end it altogether. You're gonna cause trouble to society either way, so how about you make yourself more useful? Until you’re so worn out that your body simply disintegrates. Wait, that doesn't happen? Well, that’s too bad. And don't forget that suffering from burnout and missing work or even taking over a hospital bed is also bothering society, so don't do that, okay? Why exactly were there ever people afraid of the robot uprising? Isn’t that precisely what we oh so idolised? Ah, maybe that was jealousy. Classic humans.

Anyways, in a post-society world, everyone is now truly free to die whenever. So, it's not my place to bother them. Dying is all cool and stuff. And it’s not like I know them. I’m not enough of a hypocrite to act like I care about strangers dying. They do that nonstop, after all. And though society always acted like they gave a damn when a huge number of people died at once due to a disaster or war, is that really worse than a few dying every day due to an illness or capitalism? It all sucks and is sad and suffocating and all, don't get me wrong, it really, really is. But my cat dying definitely hit me harder on a personal level. A huge number of people dying, disasters and wars just made me lose hope in the world and the future, which there never was much of, to begin with. But my cat, damn. And to all those of you disgusted by my honesty. Take a good look at yourself. You’re all the same.

So, I mind my own business. Funeral processions are very personal things, after all. I just cast a passing glance as I turn towards a side alley. As not to bother the procession on its way through the main street, or rather, its remains. They all seem to be new here. There might not be any hope in their eyes, but they’re also not desperate enough yet. There’s still enough sanity left for them to organise something as complicated as an orderly group suicide. They really couldn’t have been around very long. Sanity doesn’t go well with the toxic air. Not that I miss it. Would you mind a little bit of insanity if it gave you a second chance in life? Well, some do, as one can see quite clearly. Some rather end it altogether instead of going crazy. And who could find fault in them? What would be the right thing to do? And is the right thing always a good thing? Is good something to be striven for, to begin with? I mean, bad things have a certain charm, don’t they?

And past walks a motley crew with downcast eyes. Hazelnut eyes. Life truly is mysterious, especially how fast we want to end it at times. Would they have decided differently if they had waited for time to return? But time stays still, holed up somewhere far from any living or non-living being. I get it. Time’s a stressful job. Maybe she's bipolar? She's sometimes so full of energy and just won't stop running, while at other times, you just can't find her to get anything done.

Hazelnut eyes. I turn around and disappear into the alleyway, leaving the funeral procession behind. Hazelnut eyes. I’m not one for sentimentalities and romantic, cheesy lines. But hazelnut eyes get me. And that chocolate skin tone, I mean, come on! A real-life raven-haired beauty. A femme fatal, fatal to me. Maybe if it’s her... Ahhh, what to do?! Do you sometimes get that, too? You see someone and become obsessed with the idea of becoming friends with them. No? Just me? Wellps. But what to do now? Hazelnut eyes. They'd been just as downcast as all the others. But they hadn’t been empty yet. There’d still been pain, enough to hurt those staring inside. Had anyone the right to stop someone from taking their own life? When is intervening the right thing, a good thing to do? How to judge? Hazelnut eyes. I turn on my yellow heels and dash back. Even bad things have their charm.

By the time I return to the main road, the procession is already gone. No wonder I did take quite a while with my thoughts running in circles. Is time back out of her hibernation, perhaps? In this case, I'd have to hurry. No more time to lose!

I head to the nearest skyscraper, still scraping and adventurously climb its heights! Spotting the procession is actually not all that easy, even from up here. Huh, was climbing, perhaps, a really stupid idea? But no, that cannot be! I don't make mistakes by default! Not even to a certain degree! But with all the fog, climbing to higher spaces really is kind of pointless... Wasn’t there a saying about idiots and smoke liking high places? Darn it! I didn't just really do that, did I? How do I prove my intelligence? Fast, an idea! I give up. Okay, here goes another great saying: What you don’t have in your head, you have in your legs! And I jump down the building. No physical rules applying here! The ground’s not very attracted to me, you see! I’m not wearing yellow for nothing, after all!

I sprint along the main road in the direction they were heading to. That's my best guess, okay? Why would I know where suicidal people could be headed? Why do they need to head anywhere, to begin with? A ritual of letting go, bidding goodbye to life, perhaps? How polite of them! Life indeed will be pleased to know that those sick of her were courteous enough to say goodbye! Nope, Neeve! Not the time to have such thoughts! Whenever that time would be, or rather, where? And what is the time right now for, anyway?!

I feel lost. I feel like I've lost my way and, with it, all motivation to go on. Where to, after all, if there's no way? I stand still, letting the emptiness and silence wash over me. Maybe it will wash me away? And then I hear it. A sound in midst the silence. Someone’s crying. A high voice, a soft voice, a hazelnut-coloured voice. I can only hear it faintly. There’s nothing here to hinder sound from travelling freely, so sound can travel far. But so can I.

I start heading towards the sound, and with every step I take, I feel a wave of nervousness and fear washing over me. What is it that I'm trying to achieve here? What’s the point? What will await me? What will I do? What can I do? Lost in thought, I almost fall into a freshly dug grave. The source of the noise is almost upon me.

Hey! Who carelessly started digging graves all over the place?! Ah, well, not that I can't take a guess. Hmm? So one’ s empty at least, or perhaps they wanted to cuddle before their final rest? Peer pressure is usually pretty bad at times like this. Getting out of this kind of situation sure is hard to imagine.

I can hear the crying sound now distinctly. And weaving my way through the sloppily dug graves, I come to a halt in front of an open grave with a coffin inside, or rather a hole with a wooden plank.

I stare at it.

There’s the sound of repressed crying.

I keep staring at it.

A soft sound.

I’m still staring at the plate.

Grey turns to black.

And I’m still standing and staring.

Argh, this will get me nowhere!

I pull myself together, and mustering all my metaphysical strength, I move my shaking hand towards the plank.

“Hello there! Fancy meeting such a beautiful lady in a triste place like this. How about it? Wanna hang with me? You can think of it as a slight detour before the inevitable death. And who knows? It might even be fun!”

Hazelnut eyes.