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What Was Life For, If Not To Live?

"What we lived for, or did we ever truly live? A thought-provoking exploration of the purpose and meaning of life"

By Vicky TenthPublished about a year ago 3 min read
What Was Life For, If Not To Live?
Photo by Edward Xu on Unsplash

As I walked through the bustling streets of the city, I couldn't help but feel a sense of despair wash over me. The world seemed to be a bleak and unforgiving place, a cruel and indifferent entity that cared nothing for the struggles of its inhabitants. I felt a deep sense of sadness and emptiness as I contemplated the state of the world and the lives of its inhabitants. It appeared that the sole driving force behind human endeavors was avarice, with the affluent wielding a disproportionate degree of sway and authority over the less financially endowed.

Everywhere I looked, there were people rushing about, lost in their own little worlds, consumed by the relentless pursuit of success and material possessions that made the air thick with the stench of greed and envy.

I know that my words would likely fall on deaf ears, as the people around me were too busy, too consumed by their obsession for material gain. I yearned to rouse them from their complacency and implore them to awaken to the multitude of gratifications that lay beyond the material realm, to be appreciative of the more elemental joys of existence and to be grateful for the minor favors that had been bestowed upon them.

As I continued to observe, a profound melancholy settled within me. It was as though I were attuned to the collective suffering of humanity, an ineluctable sense of despair and desolation that seemed to suffuse the ambiance. Everywhere I turned, I encountered shattered hopes and crushed ambitions, a poignant reminder of the cruel vicissitudes of existence. I was filled with a heavy heart as I watched my fellow man, consumed by a system of ruthless competition and a false sense of superiority, thinking that they were better than the rest of us because they had a few coins more in their pocket.

The relentless din of the city echoed in my ears like a cacophony of discordant voices, a chorus of despair that was difficult to ignore. The pavement was littered with discarded wrappers and the walls were covered in graffiti, an expression of the hopelessness that seemed to pervade this place.

I felt a wave of despondency wash over me as I continued my aimless wanderings, my mind weighed down by the oppressive atmosphere. I could sense the desperation of those around me, the desperation of those who had no where else to turn. The people around me were nothing more than empty shells, their souls having been consumed by the rat race, their hopes and dreams cast aside in favor of more practical matters. It was as if they were stuck in a never-ending loop, their lives devoid of any sort of meaning or purpose.

I tried to turn my thoughts away from the bleakness that surrounded me, but the darkness seemed to seep into my very bones. I looked around at the monotonous drudgery of the city, its citizens mere automatons going through the motions of everyday life, their faces betraying no hint of joy or enthusiasm. I felt a deep sense of ennui, a feeling of hopelessness that seemed to pervade the air around me.

I continued to walk, my despair growing with every step, until I finally stumbled upon a small park nestled in the corner of the city. It was a quiet oasis in the midst of the chaos, a place of peace and tranquility, and I felt my spirits lift as I walked towards it. The park was a respite from the noise and bustle of the city. The sky was bathed in a brilliant hue of oranges and purples, and I felt a sense of solace wash over me. The trees were alive with birdsong and the air smelled of freshly cut grass. I felt a sense of calm wash over me, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt a sense of hope.


About the Creator

Vicky Tenth

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