You go out with a friend, one evening to perhaps meet some girls. Nothing serious, just some fun with girls you’ll perchance never see again. But the whole town is empty. There are almost no people around – on a Saturday evening. So you sit around in some cafes, coincidentally meet some people you know, but finally end up again in your regular pub, where you started the evening. You get spent several vodka shots. You go to the toilet and see yourself in the mirror above the basin, and you say to yourself: “So this is me. And there outside, that’s really my life. Was this really all meant to be?”
Was it meant to be that you pass most of your time in this very pub? And why did exactly that guy who is waiting for you outside become your friend? You can’t even remember when you first met him, but still he’s the one who’s been a friend ever since and he’s the one who you wanted to have some fun with tonight.
Some talking with the bar man who’s almost an old acquaintance and another free drink. You look around the pub: this is the very place you spent weeks and months with your friends, the place linked to so many beautiful memories. It won’t remain forever. Nothing does – even the supermarket, where the girl of your dreams once bought Alete and you were stupid enough to make fun of her, having to bear your heart’s bleeding afterwards, is gone.
You decide to go home, but then drive around for some time, listening to some Fool’s Garden, Bloc Party and alike. The gas stations are all closed, so no chance to get something to eat. At 2 o’clock you’re bored. Nothing happened, that isn’t at all how the evening was supposed to end, but you can’t change it.
Finally home, all that remains are question: Is anything destined to happen? Or is destiny only a constant hustle, having no idea where it is going?
Are we trapped? It’s almost like my name was Seth. This is my life.
This is your life,
Is it everything that you dreamed
That it would be when the world was younger,
And you had everything to lose?
I really like Switchfoot.