The death of existence

Would I still exist if I weren’t born?

The particles that make me up would certainly be here, scattered.

Would these words have been here, on this website?

The love that I have for people, would not be here. The hatred that I share with some of them would not be here.

More importantly, the love they have for me would not be here.

The day I was born, I did not bring these with me. I have them now. I must have created them. I did not come with questions and thoughts. I am not the one who created them. If I did, wouldn’t I only create the thoughts that would make me burst with ecstasy every second? Why would I have questions that trouble me, thoughts that make me want to run away from them?

Well, what about a washing machine? The parts that it is made up of would still be there if nobody assembled them. The collective contribution of those parts to cleanliness of my clothes, leading to a successful date with a hygiene freak girl, can not be ignored. It would have ended at the first sign of stinky clothes.

I am proud of being a human. Why? A washing machine is also doing good and wonders. Does it celebrate my well ended date? Well, it’s contribution is quite small, no doubt. Victory! I am better than a washing machine. Hihaa!!

I have heard of people who don’t have a life. Bring them into this. I am unemployed, don’t have a lot of skills, was not born in a money draining family, don’t know much about the world and no good looks either.

I have been assembled with all the organs intact, as I write. I am a washing machine that has been assembled and has sources of supply for what it needs. I don’t have the will to wash clothes.

A washing machine machine can’t be under social anxiety or employment pressure though. Maybe that is why it never says ‘no’ whenever it is told to do its job. Could it have written all these words, if asked? More importantly, could it gather the courage to say no, at the risk of losing people that it, maybe, loves?

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