Our Lives

It felt like something echoing through the cargo.
My fear?
When i looked out of the window of the train, homes, green pastures passes behind me, like something as virtual as on a television screen.
My head felt heavy and weighted, as if I was still in the slumber, as if I was sleep walking.
The stilled air in the cargo made it felt more virtual, when miles passed behind you.
People not wearing any expression. They were all busy with their phones. There were no emotions in their eyes as they looked up. All was locked up behind that windows of spirit.
As if waiting for the time to slip away, perhaps they were waiting for the end of them.
It wasn't sad for them, nor was it an excitement. It was simply waiting within this silent. I could only hear the noise of the air conditioning. Perhaps occasional trembling of the train. Yet they were all indifferent to this.
Maybe they were just to absorbed into their own troubles, but their faces were long and motionless.
City life it is. Toiling for nothing. Hustling for nothing. We worked our heart out, till everything seems illusional to us, delirious to us. And we just don't know how to response to our surroundings.