Only checking for a ring, who cares what her background is as long as she's single she's a match. What have I become. Dignity used to mater to me. I used to care who she was, what she believed, what she did for work etc. What has changed? How have I changed? Who am I really? I used to know. Values used to mater to me. I could resit scripture, and quotes of authors and poets and notable figures. I cared about my appearance. What I looked like. what I wore. I found the time to care about the small things and the big things. Now what am I. Aside from work I never leave the house, the occasional trip to the store maybe, the weekly trash run. What kind of life is this? Why do I feel perfectly content with sitting at home hour after countless hour playing video games, watching movie after movie. But wait.... at the same time the only thing I want to do is leave, get out, see the world. Not only do I feel sorry for myself, I loath who I've become. I once took notice of a large bowl of fruit and thought to myself, at least I'm not at the bottom of the barrel... at least I'm more important than this bowl of fruit. I was wrong. This bowl of fruit... this seemingly insignificant, pathetic, worthless bowl of fruit was better than I. All my life I was taught that everyone in this world has a purpose... and we do. "What is that purpose"? One of the greatest mysteries of life is what it is. Never in my life have I met or known anyone or anything who found or lived up to their purpose in life. until I met that wonderful little bowl of fruit. The bowl maybe ugly and the fruit plastic but that little object that hides so perfectly in plain sight has found and lived up to its purpose. While some may say it just sits there doing nothing, or others may say its ugly or has no place to be there... that bowl is doing exactly as it should and is in the exact place it needs to be. For it is a bowl of fruit and to do or be anything else would be... unnatural. You may not believe it but that little bowl of fruit inspired me that day. The funny thing is that no matter how hard I (or anyone else for that matter) tries, I can never become what that little bowl of fruit has become. I can never fulfill my purpose as that bowl of fruit has done. I envy that fruit bowl. I can only hope to become more like it. Day after day, month after month, year after endless year. On the coffee table... long table on the hallway... end table... storage. even after all its done, the time of the fruit bowl will always come to and end. And even after everything, that little bowl of plastic fruit fulfills its purpose, and lives up to all expectations. If only I were as good as that bowl of fruit... Maybe then I could finally be happy. Maybe then I could again start living my life. I miss it.