What's There To Live For?



In that tiny coffee shop, her life stops while she is watching the others go by, walking their lives away as they cross the street. Tomorrow does not really matter. For now, she is at peace; away from her thoughts that once in a while greets her and whisper death; but then it is there to remind her how bad she wants to live. In that coffee shop, she smiles at the idea of we all just advanced monkey on a minor planet of a very average star. Earth is an average star, can you imagine that? She murmurs, will that make her worry is smaller than dust, smaller than the smallest matter which almost equal to nothing?

One table away from where she sits, there are two mothers looking profoundly happy as they cleaned up their children's drool. The look in their eyes proclaims as if their source of happiness is right there, in the wet drools, loud hysterical cries and saint-like laughters. They seem they have ended 'the search', you know, the exploration on finding happiness. She thinks, maybe she ought to have a baby, too. As she sits less than a feet away, in the complete opposite state; young, lost and confused as one can be. But then again, if the search is over, what's there to live for?

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