known across this land , is that the point , to have fame and power . Not for me at least . If that was true it would have happened by now , before I land on that surface below .
I have come to the conclusion that I will hit the ground and be gone from this life , as all of my clones do before me , but who knows , I may be unique in that sense too . Pop ! There ' s another idea , am I built to be special , a new perspective in this world ? But that doesn ’ t make sense either . Why bother creating me , one more thing like so many others . I lead the same fate as they do anyway . Pop ! Or is that it , am I a test , an experiment to see if this concept of life will work ? Maybe everything around me is fake , just a reality for my hopeless soul to survive in . Pop ! What seems like the final idea before I vanish hits me . Am I alive just to be alive , to enjoy myself , alive just to experience it , this feeling of consciousness .
I hit the murky substance , made of the others before me . I realize that maybe there is no right answer to myself being here , experiencing what I have . I realize how lucky I was , just to have been alive . To feel . To think .
It was a cold day in New York , and rain was beating down , as a young man in a red jacket , clutching a dark navy umbrella , was walking back from his friend ' s place . He hummed the tune of his favorite song while cold rain seeped into his clothes . The lights shone bright in the city , and he still had a bit longer to go till he reached his apartment . Thankfully he had his trusty black boots on as he stomped through the puddles , like tiny oceans made by the downpour , wondering how it might feel to be a raindrop falling from above .
As a black ovular object looms above , a feeling of content washes over me . I settle down to rest , with all the others around me , free from worry of what could happen next .
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