I am alone.
No one can see me. I am trapped in this triangular chamber - my home - for the next 9 months. I divide. Now I’m two. Four. Eight. Sixteen. Zygote. Embryo. Now, I am sitting here, crouched in a little ball, surrounded with blood and veins. I feed off the nutrients that my owner consumes. I stay within her, adding 3 kilos of burden to her young, delicate body. I feel claustrophobic. The smell disgusts me. I want to get out. I move around, I kick. I do everything possible to make her realize that I want to get out. Her water finally breaks out. I can feel someone pulling on my head. Stronger and stronger. I can feel her pushing me out. Harder and Harder. One push. Two pushes. Three pushes. I’m out. And I’m alone.
The light blinds me. There are people surrounding me, smiling down at me, while I cry. I let the tears flow out of dissatisfaction, out of the mere frustration that I wasn’t comfortable in the small triangular chamber, and nor am I happy in this large rectangular I.C.U. I lied there, crying while everybody hugged each other with happiness shining through their evil eyes. I soon realize that these are the very people that I have to spend the rest of my stay here. And I soon realize that they don’t mean to be evil at all. It’s the nature of humanity that make them selfish, make them think of everything from a self-centered perspective. My childhood walks away, while I play with plastic toys and get entertained by those same people. Pampered by those same people. They always make sure I get all the happiness that they think I deserve. They claim that they know me and understand me. But, I doubt if I ever will know myself all that well. Thus, amongst all these heads around me, I am alone.
School. University. Job. Marriage. People. People everywhere. People at every phase of life. Conversation after conversation, we believe to be getting closer. But never close enough. Responsibilities grow. I become burdened. But I continue thinking of it as a rule of life and continue living, continue smiling. And continue running around. From home to office and from office to back home. I try to find happiness in this endless routine. But what did I finally get? More respect? More love? More money? Perhaps. So now I am here, apparently more respected, more loved and wealthier. But I am still not happy, not satisfied. I want more. And in this endless quest influenced by insatiable desires, I am alone.
Now I am here. Lying in this coffin, 10 feet under ground. All the respect, love and wealth that I chased all my life walked away from the gates of the grave. While I stay here, crouched in a little ball again. All the material things that I defined my life around, stay left behind. While my body shrinks and decays to mere 3 kilos all over again. All the people that I labelled as being “mine” are moving on with life. While I stay trapped in this 8 x 6 coffin. Trapped again. I want to get out but this time, I can’t. And something else also left me - the soul. The very soul that gave life to this body. In this constant chase after transitory, material, ephemeral things, I never once considered closing my eyes and looking right inside of me. If I did, I would have found Him. The one who is permanently satisfied, and permanently happy. The one that does not depend its happiness on momentary pleasures. The one who was with me all these years. Now He’s gone too, to a different body. And now, my eyes are permanently closed, but I can’t find Him anymore. Now, I am alone. Truly alone.
Alone.
I'm glad that though this started off fairly scientific, you deviated from that path to telling the story. While you're perfectly right about what drives us in this world, I don't see what sort of point you're trying to make.