Two friends sat by a lake at sunset. One of them was smoking and the other was drinking coffee. One was tired and the other was numb and indifferent. One was a self-proclaimed artist and the other a self declared philosopher. They belonged in a special institution.
So, what do you do when life doesn't make sense? The coffee person asked, with a sigh and an expressionless face.
Who said life has to make any sense? The smoker replied in an amused voice.
Then, whats the point of life if there's no meaning to it?
Who said there is any point to life?
Then, why do we exist if there's no meaning and point to life?
Who said we exist? Maybe, we are just an illusion. Just a vivid nightmare simmering in the consciousness of our cosmos. The moment, the cosmos snaps out of its sleep, human race will be a thing of imagination.
When will the cosmos wake up? I would really love to sleep.
Well, I think the cosmos forgot to set itself an alarm clock. So its up to the two of us to figure out how to wake up the cosmos and save it from the horror of the human race.
Hot chance in hell that the two of us could ever accomplish something like this. How about I just go to sleep, and you do the honorable deed and then join me in our eternal sleep? The coffee drinker began to get up from the bench where they sat, and walked towards the white building.
Wait. I think I know what the cosmos needs. It wont wake up unless we both contribute to its timeline an ingenious progeny. So, with all due seriousness and minus the fuss, will you marry me?
The shrill alarm pierced through the air, and the two looked at each other for a brief moment. As the moment elapsed, the two walked back to their tiny cells. Shortly, they were sedated and brought their food.
It was just another day in the madhouse.