A Thought for Others:

I have long searched for a way to increase my sociability. With a system I would just have to press a button to increase my charisma and the problem would be solved.

Finally I am very well alone, I like my solitude most of the time, except when it weighs on me at night. Moreover, it is often said that man is made to live with others, otherwise he risks going crazy without interaction. Yet I know that with or without the others I would be the same, they are simply tools for me. They allowed me to build my thread of thoughts by teaching me the language for my inner self, but above all they allow me to meet my needs (farmers, traders, even parents who work for me, etc.).

I know that this situation is unstable, without much possibility for me to go far in today's society. Yet walking on a stretched wire above the precipice excites me strangely. I like not having a path that defines what I would be.

I like to keep this part of mystery. I love that tomorrow has a chance to be different. In addition, it is this mystery that prevents me from taking the next step when I think of suicide. I always hope that an improbable event drags the little me still full of dreams into its chain of consequences.

Finally I spend most of my day in my room. The door and the flight closed, in almost complete darkness. A light coming from my phone pierces this darkness, I scroll lifelessly through a page of one of the countless social networks I have installed to relieve my sadness.

But all this does not help me. I see older or younger people in the same situation. Trapped in a meaningless life, a life without passions, without reason. In me and in these people, I find a name for us: The forgotten children of history, without purpose or real place. Only people who are exploited by making them believe through advertising that they need such and such an object essential to their life or through films that they will one day become someone if they give themselves the means.

But the reality is so much harder, we now live an average of 70 years, in this one we spend most of our time in futile things and suffering then when we arrive on our deathbed, a few minutes before the big end, we confess to having in us full of regrets.

I am often told "Alex, live a life you will remember and that you will not regret", yet how do you want me to live it without regret and with happiness, when I know that our world is dying, that girls are being raped and that they don't get justice, when I see the efforts of so many people to ensure the future of our descendants reduced to nothing by an asshole greedy for wealth and power, how do you want to profit knowing that you can eat and drink whenever you want while others have to fight to maybe live a tomorrow.

With every action I do I feel a certain guilt, remorse that gnaws at my mind. Finally the others provoke in me contradictory emotions that tear me apart.