The empty drink containers
So I’m riding my bus home last October. I look out the window and there’s a redbull can next to an empty water bottle, sitting in a drainage ditch on top of the drain.
Who are these drink containers? Do they hate each other? They come from completely different sides. The water is something everything needs, and yet redbull gives you wings and shit. One is made from plastic, the other, aluminum or whatever. These cans could not be farther apart, and yet they have a common purpose that was apparently filled out. They quenched someone’s thirst, and once this was done, they were discarded. Straight into a drainage ditch. Right next to each other.
Months pass. Snow falls. Melts. Rain pours. Drains away. Winds blow. Lightning strikes. Fucking time passes man. It is now May. Those cans are still sitting there. In the same position. The shape of the drain somehow protected them from blowing away or befalling other fates. Even though this can and bottle hated each other in the beginning, they stuck with each other through thick and thin. Love blossomed. Yes, a redbull can fall in love with an empty water bottle.
Unable to express their love, they have to do with just being next to each other. Barely even touching. Now they are still there, awaiting the day when the right gust of wind comes along, and blows one onto the other. Or a man, cleaning up the road splits them up with his pokey stick of death. The cruelty of the situation is mindblowing. Whose to say these containers can’t be together?
But all is not lost. In trillions of years, when all traces of the containers, even the earth are nothing but atoms drifting in space. Space has stopped expanding, and has begun retracting. The big crunch is happening. It takes a few more billion years, but then it all implodes into singularity, and the atoms of the can and water bottle reunite, at the end of the universe.