Yet life goes on, Following the rules of life

Yet life goes on Following the rules of life

years have passed like a slow, unrelenting tide of purpose. There was once a belief that the future held promise, that the passing of time would bring growth and fulfillment. Instead, it has only magnified an overwhelming emptiness. Others have moved forward—married, traveled, built lives filled with experiences that seem unattainable. Meanwhile, existence has become a mere shadow, slipping further behind with every moment.

Each day begins the same way, waking to a silence that weighs heavier than before. The room feels smaller, the air colder, the reflection in the mirror unfamiliar. Social media feeds are endless reminders of what could have been but never was. Smiling faces, celebrations, achievements—all reflections of a world that no longer seems to hold a place for those left behind.

Work offers no solace. A job exists, but it is not a career. The motions are mechanical, the days repetitive. There is no upward trajectory, no recognition, only the slow passage of time. Conversations with family have grown distant, their voices tinged with disappointment and subtle resignation. Suggestions to settle down, to aim higher, to change direction, fall on ears that have long stopped listening. Hope is a foreign concept, drowned beneath years of stagnation.

Loneliness is a constant companion. Meals are eaten alone, walks through the crowded streets feel isolating rather than engaging. Everywhere, there are reminders of others finding meaning, while this existence remains devoid of it. Laughter heard from passing groups, quiet conversations shared between couples, the sight of success embodied in confident strides—it all stings, a reminder of distance from that world.

The past no longer feels like a foundation but rather a cruel contrast to the present. Once, there were dreams, aspirations, connections. Now, there is only the void, growing larger with each passing year. Time moves forward, but it brings no change. The same thoughts repeat in an endless cycle—what if things had been different? Would it have mattered? Would it have changed anything at all?

Each night ends the same way, staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep that does not come easily. The city outside is alive, but within these walls, there is only silence. No one knocks at the door, no messages light up the screen. The realization settles deeper: in a world that prizes success, relationships, and progress, those who falter are left behind, fading into obscurity.

Another day begins, another step into nothingness. The cruelest part of it all is not the loneliness itself, but the knowledge that this is all there is—an existence that has long since lost its meaning.

The sun had long set on Rohan's dreams, though the days continued to pass without mercy. Thirty-two years old, and he felt as though he had been standing still while the world around him sprinted forward. He had once envisioned his thirties as a time of stability, achievement, and contentment. Instead, he found himself trapped in a life that felt stagnant, watching others build families, careers, and experiences that eluded him.

Each morning, Rohan woke up with the same suffocating weight in his chest. The walls of his small, dimly lit apartment pressed in on him, amplifying his isolation. He scrolled through social media feeds filled with friends announcing engagements, posting pictures from exotic vacations, or celebrating promotions. Each post was a reminder of the distance that had grown between him and the people he once called friends. He rarely spoke to them anymore; over time, their conversations had dwindled, their once-frequent messages now reduced to obligatory birthday wishes, if even that.

His job at the call center was nothing more than a means to survive. It paid little and offered even less in the way of purpose. He could hear the disappointment in his parents' voices whenever they called, their words coated in a thin layer of concern that barely masked their dismay. "You should think about settling down," his mother would suggest, though she already knew there was no one in his life. "Maybe take some courses, try for a better position?" his father would add, but Rohan lacked the energy to even pretend he was interested in improvement.

Loneliness had become his most faithful companion. He ate his meals alone, spent weekends in silence, and walked past couples laughing together, their joy a stark contrast to the emptiness inside him. At night, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, his mind tormented by the thought that his life had no meaning, that he had contributed nothing of value to the world. He wondered if he had been born just to exist in this unremarkable, forgotten corner of society.

His neighbors barely acknowledged him. The few colleagues he had were younger, ambitious, their eyes filled with hope that had long faded from his own. He could see the pity in their gazes when they spoke to him, as if they saw him as a cautionary tale of what happens when one fails to keep up with the world’s relentless pace.

One evening, as he walked home through the dimly lit streets, he passed a group of old classmates at a café. He recognized them instantly; they were deep in conversation, sharing laughter that once would have included him. He hesitated for a moment, tempted to go inside, to reconnect. But then he saw the way they carried themselves—confident, successful, belonging. And he knew that he no longer fit into their world. He turned away, walking past the warm glow of the café into the cold, empty night.

Each day blended into the next, an endless cycle of waking, working, and waiting for nothing. He began to question if anyone would notice if he disappeared. No one knocked on his door, no one invited him anywhere, and the silence of his phone was a constant reminder of his irrelevance.

The city was full of people, yet he felt invisible. He wandered through crowded streets, past strangers who did not see him, past lives that seemed full while his own remained hollow. The world had moved on without him, and he was left behind, watching from the shadows, unseen and forgotten.

And so, another night arrived, another day closer to nowhere. The cruelest part of it all was not the loneliness itself, but the realization that this was his reality now. That perhaps, in a world that valued success, companionship, and progress, he had already faded into nothingness, a ghost of the man he once hoped to become,no one behind,many people around,but no one there,why is this world so cruel.