"Do you have any aspirations?"
    
    "No."
    
    "How about any interests that you might want to continue pursuing?"
    
    "No."
    
    "Then, what do you envision yourself doing ten years down the road?"
    
    "I'm hoping I will be dead by then."
    
    The counselor stared at the young man sitting in front of him in shock. He had never seen someone like him in his twenty-five years of counseling. He was just asking his usual questions to all freshmen in the university, going through the drill. Usually, guys his age would be filled with passion, talking about their future. Some dream to be doctors, engineers, lawyers, celebrities while others would want to have a pretty wife and have two children- a boy first then a girl. However, he-he, his eyes were dead. He was fiddling with the ear stick that was pierced in his ear as he waited for the counselor to continue with the drill. 
    
    The counselor cleared his throat and decided to close his file and placed it aside. The young man stared at him curiously. Personally, he was also surprised by his actions. It was not something a professional counselor would have done. However, he sensed that this was the only way he could get this young man to open up.
    
    "If you don't mind, I would like you to elaborate."
    
    When the young man remained silent, the counselor tried again.
    
    "I mean, don't you think living on Earth for 30 years is too short?"
    
    The young man stared at the ceiling, pondering over his question. He opened his mouth and closed it again, reconsidering. He stared at the counselor and then he suddenly leaned forward, startling the counselor. 
    
    "...You know, there's this empty hole inside my heart that can never be filled up with anything. Some people fill up this hole with faith, with love, with passion. But I can't. I don't believe in God. Because if there was God, why would this world be filled with so much sadness? Love-" He snickered.      
    
    "Love is overrated. And passion. Well, I do have passion in music. But that's not it. There is still something missing. I realized this since I was eight. I know I lack purpose. I see peers walking in hallways, talking about their future. No matter how silly their future seem to me, I am envious. They too have family members, friends, teachers to care for them. But I have no one. I was always alone. I don't mean anything to anyone. Tell me why should I stay in a world that won't even notice I am gone?"