You know why I am always depressed? It’s because I not experienced enough.
Yes, inexperienced, just like the lot of you. Yes, I have my experience in life, but is that enough? One experience out of seven billion experiences simultaneously happening at this moment on earth, out of over a hundred billion human experiences that existed, and I just get to have one, how is that fair?
I will never be an African American during the civil rights movement, I will never know how it felt when the Berlin wall collapsed, and I will never know how it felt when Berlin fell to the thick boots of the Soviet armies. I will never know what it feels to be a girl in the streets of Cairo fearing sexual harassment, I will never know what the Native Americans feel when they see George Washington, and General Custer praised. I can imagine, but I will never know.
So, yes, I am alive, but I’m only living one experience out of a hundred billion, and I ask you is that a life? Is one hundredth of a billion experiences enough? Is there really that big of a difference between life and death?