After this, you can go on with your life

After this, you can go on with your life. You can step out into the street, and run to the streetcar, which you will inevitably miss. You will stare at your phone as you wait for the minutes to go by, due, due, due, another car is always due, but always seems so delayed. Even a car that seems early is likely just really late. You can look up and glare at the people walking while staring at their screens, eternally aware of the meaninglessness of it all but willfully blind to your own hypocrisy. You will finally flash that card to the conductor, push your way past those who cannot be bothered to make room for others. There are no others, there are only Others, to everyone, everywhere. You will pull the bell to signal you wish to get off at the next stop, and you will do it milliseconds before a small child gets to do it. You will be satisfied with your cleverness, at having ruined a 2-year-old's day. You will wait for the lights to change - aren't you just always waiting? - before making it home. Home, a place to rest if nothing else, a place that is increasingly shrinking as space is constantly being taken up by one more thing. You can never have enough things, but it's not materialism, because all of these things are necessary, it's a need. A need for things. A need to take up space by proxy. Your things take up space, and therefore you take up space, and therefore you are worthy, because you and your things take up the space, and people who are worthy aren't afraid of taking up space.