Purposes

I was going home on Friday night, alone in a full metro wagon. The only desire I had at the moment was to be in bed as soon as possible - only if I could close my eyes and opening them again in the morning, I would found myself in the blankets. I was not particularly happy or particularly sad. I was just alone, in a wagon full of people tired of life or people ready to live their lives - that very night.

And, how it is a habit of mine in moments like this, I, once again, questioned the purpose. You know - the higher purpose of me being here. What is the point... what could be the point - constantly look for happiness or satisfaction or smash people with your elbows to ensure a little place in this world that is yours. What is the point of looking forward to the weekend... why would I construct plans for next vacation right after I finished the last one...

And then, I get a message. As simple as that. I was happy to see you.

As simple as that. I guess that is the point. Not me.