Wanna enjoy, be entertained. Minimum effort, maximum pleasure. Short term life. Beauty and health. Or just a laugh, a thrill; staged experiences. World cup soccer and a frappuccino. A house on the beach in my phone. Till I’m out of battery and gotta think it out.

Sometimes I try to identify my own situation. Internally, externally, in comparison… Truthfully. The conclusion is always the same: I’m lost, cut off from reality, inside a bubble. In the best case, there’s also a desire for the bubble to burst. In the worst case, only indifference.

At your age you can base a lot of your actions and choices on experience. The world too. Things are recorded. Mere repetition turns things into shit. Systems, societies prevail of course. Hearts and minds, they rot. If not renewed. Autopilot kills the cat. Curiosity sustains.

I found a treasure. A big shining box with a lock on it. I even found the key — in my heart. I threw it away. The key, and the box too. It had to be done. A treasure in the form of a box was not what I had been looking for. To throw it away was the real treasure.

For what a daily observation of the world we live in is worth, it seems that we are materially fulfilled (compared to earlier times) but spiritually totally empty, meaning we acquired tools and nourishment, but kind of forgot what it’s all for. Are we full? What is there more to fill?

It’s funny how we separate ourselves from each other, live separately, work, eat and sleep separately, as if we want to be alone, while electronically we connect as never before. It’s as if we want to connect but don’t want to at the same time; as if we’re trying to, but can’t.

The question you’re not supposed to ask is the question of the meaning of life. Not only because it’s seemingly a very hard question to answer. But also because it threatens our established order of society, such as consumerism, which obviously relies on meaninglessness.

I’m both animal and human, mostly animal, eating sleeping, laughing, crying, as long as it lasts; it won’t last; a small human part wanting something more, something lasting, call it “meaning”, spirituality if you like — life of a human is hard as hell in a world like this.

Things just don’t add up, she said. Be specific, she was told. How can you be specific when things are not specified, she sighed. Life’s achievements — so damn transient. Then death! Or are those just diversions — to keep us alive? “Alive”… Come on! Lighten up, she was told.