I looked up. The moon sat on a throne of dark clouds, painting the cobbled streets a translucent white through the slits of the edifices in its path. The silent, silver glimmer of the metal fought with the amber of the gas lamps sitting atop.
"Was that meant to be an attack or something?"
"Of course not. It's just the truth." He thought about it for a second. "You can take it as an insult if you like."
"Why does nothing have a meaning?"
"See, we live in a world where nothing makes sense. We have these aims and goals that make no sense. We want to reach great heights and sit on the apex of this preposterous hierarchical pyramid. But none of it matters, because the life we're living has no meaning. Perhaps it is because our lives weren't given meaning, or maybe they weren't meant to be meaningful. Whatever be the case, it is still rather evident that human lives mean nothing. So, why stress about things that don't even matter? It's stupid and a complete waste of time."
"It's not like you would know. You were born a genius no matter how much you deny that, and you had gifts. You could simply leave everything behind. Not everyone can. You have the luxury of thinking that nothing matters, and that everyone around you scurrying to make ends meet is a fool and that they need to see this blatant truth. You haven't been through the same things as I have, and so, you simply cannot know what it feels like. That's why sympathy is so meaningless; cruel, even. I do not want to hear you talk about hardships and about how I have to persevere through it all, because you were on a platform while I was buried deep underground."
"Ela, I'm not a genius."
