If I would ask myself where I would not like to be - this would be it and sure enough I am only one of almost 8,5 million others who could easily think of at least ten other, more pleasant places. However, it is the one moment where we are so near to each other that we have to look at each other and see one another - not only is there merely space to look away but also the choices are narrowed down to precisely two people.
The afro american lady had a full round face, framed like a perfect canvas by a headscarf, emphasizing her peaceful features in her smooth flawless dark skin. She was wearing a grey wool coat that was almost too tight, embracing her curvy body with large grey buttons. She was sitting in between her two kids who were constantly moving, her arms in her pockets and her legs loose. The lady seemed so unperturbed by her surroundings , so relaxed, that it was adjoining to indifference.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, it hit me: Life makes no sense. Surprised by my own thought, wondering where it came from and how, I closed my eyes for a second only to look at her again, look at her kids, as if I would be searching for a clue that would at least challenge my conclusion and transform it into an assumption - if not prove me wrong. But even on a second look, it seemed as indigenous and natural as the lady herself: Life makes no sense.
I was surprised and baffled about how absolute this conclusion was and how it had caught me off guard. Still looking at her, I felt some sadness. I knew it a long time ago, but today, the thought that was born a while ago had reached every molecule of my body. Back then, I only knew, now I understood.
And on my way out of the train, I looked at all the people I passed on my way to the exit and wondered if we live because we hope that maybe some day something or someone will prove us wrong and show us that life will only make sense once it has been lived - like an oversized picture puzzle that , only completed, reveals an absolute, unshakable picture, screaming: Life makes sense.
