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Alone i sit
In a chair made of wood, crafted by the hands of man and cold arms of machines.
Pondering to myself my very existence.
What am I to do?
What will I do?
Minutes pass by with every continuous second
We sit in cubicles, working to make people happy.
So we can earn money and hope to in turn,
Make ourselves happy.
People live in cycles, not cause they need to
But because they have to.
Things cost money
Money is earned by working,
which others sell things so they can also earn money.
Its sad when the place you live in revolves around money
You cant sit in one place due to someone else owning it
You cant drink or go to the bathroom civily without paying for water, faucet, and a toilet.
And whats even more sad is that the chair i sit in will one day be old technology
This simple design chair with 4 legs, back, and seat...will be replaced
Replaced with new chairs, chairs that one day float in the air or run on a magnetic track or something
All because man is never happy, they have to invent because theres money to be made and fame to gain.
Fame that gets cameras in their faces which they grow tired of eventually and later despise.
One day everything will be automatic, metal, and new. The famous will slowly fade away with all that is old, including this chair made of wood, crafted by the hands of man and cold metalic arms of machines.
Money is to be made, and new people are due to become famous, so the cycles continue with slight modifications.
And still the thoughts come back to me...what will become of me? What will I become?
Will i become famous and continue just another cycle...or will i break the chains and loops...will i make a difference in some way? Good or "bad"...?
Maybe my ponderations are just a big cycle in itself...