Being part of society

The question we must ask ourselves at some point is: do we belong in society? For those who can answer this question in a positive way, I might be jealous of you. For those who often respond to this question in a negative manner, I feel for you. We are all part of society, at least as long as we live, breath, consume, communicate with other creatures from the human race.

Last night I did put on my nicest clothes, combed my hair and put on my best hat. I walked through the city, passing by people, more concerned with myself than with them. Passing a store I looked at my reflection in the window. Long black coat falling a little higher than my knees, dark gray pants and polished black shoes. A nice blue scarf and one of the best dark blue hats one has ever seen. How amazingly nice must it be for others to see me pass by? Oh, I guess I just bring happiness to others.

Around nine in the evening I stopped at a theatre. "Literature and society", the title of the evening. I walked inside and wondered if I could still enter. As I found my way to the crowd my mood I had during the day switched. First I crossed two young men all dressed up and nicely trimmed. Not one hair wrong on them. 'How superficial' I thought to myself. Next I saw an old couple. The men with a moustache, long brown coat and face down. The woman looked as well any woman of a certain age, I felt pitty for her. But at the same time a horrible feeling about human beings came to me. By the time I reached the responsible for the entrance, who offered me to take a seat in the back row, I was all messed up. I refused the place and blamed that woman offering me the spot for her ignorance and looked down on her. I left the building to walk out in the night.

It had started to rain 'typical' I thought. What's the point in dressing nice, in gathering with humans? They are so, but oh so the same. Where are those special people I sometimes think about? Do they even exist? Or is it just me? Am I, too, a human as there are so many? Perhaps I'm not unique? Or maybe I am but would that matter? I kept walking, and with every step my dissapointment grew bigger. Is this what life has to offer? - I wondered. How can I even respect another human being? How can I expect to be respected? How can I love one of those crazy human beings? Perhaps it's better to love a ghost and direct my life towards an illusion? Why in God's name did the story of Ansgar appear in my head?

Society, what would you do without me? What would I do without you? My precious love, what would I do without you? What would you do without me? Question one and four are easy to answer: society and you would just continue my dear. But me? Oh dear Lord, what about me?