So we’ll pay our bills on time and some a couple of days overdue. We will buy the next technological cloak to hide our deep-rooted insecurities. We will consume pieces of packaged, dehydrated joy made in a factory on the weaker side of the planet. We may even fall in love while we get dressed up to go to work. So conditioned by years of abuse, we may even start believing in things that we seem to feel. We will pretend to understand pain during coffee or tea breaks. We may save up for a future we will never have; enjoy a present that doesn’t exist and mull over the past that was actually quite like today or tomorrow. Our eagerness to belong will take us to social gatherings in high-heeled strides, concealing the stench of our rotting flesh with a musky perfume with fruity notes and an oaky finish. We will defecate all over the beauty that surrounds us and seem to care for artistic expressions in food, fear and falsehood. We will confine ourselves in ant holes while speaking of our desire to fly beyond the known horizon. We will continue to obsess over cheaters, beaters and those who stole our sense of existence. We will sit at home, and search for one simultaneously. In preparation for extinction, sitting by the warm, golden fire of our soul’s pyre and proclaim, ‘This is how things have always been, at least I am marginally different from the other guy’. We will seek appreciation from systems created to destroy us. We will create our own matchbox heaven, paying for what we own naturally, one square feet at a time. We will wonder how we were wiped out from the minds of those we thought we loved. When all seems lost, we will create opinions and defend them. While some will regurgitate popular belief, a chosen few will hide our sources. We’ll dress up in branded shrouds, so that it gets easier to target the flock we belong to. We will let money decide our destiny, and violently ignore an alternative fate. Out of sheer jealousy, we will mock the few of us who plan a way out. It’s a celebration of our doom, and we’re going to dance until dawn. We will try our best to convince selfish strangers of our true intentions. We will confess love and hate to heartless beasts. In our trivial need to be part of something bigger, we will completely destroy our desire to live within our own means. As we tank up on years of regret, we’ll become deaf to our inner voice and blind to the inner light. We’ll build up a pension and eat through our free will. We will drug ourselves with our poisons of choice and condemn the power of addiction. Football teams, dietary choices, streams of art, nations of birth, friends and foes; we will defend everything insignificant but our own pure souls. We will have no stories to tell, no dreams to fulfill and no values to protect. And once we turn into sculptures in our own image, we will be ready, all set, to pack up our bags and go to work, once again.
And then what?