He was on the bathroom staring at objects. A young man on his mid twenties without a purpose in life, trying to figure it out why he was there, what was he looking for.

He thought he was desperate, looking to common objects maked it easier to focus. He just wanted to dissect life but in the end he was just being intellectually lazy, or rather natural and insctinctive. He valued nature, yet couldn't be one with it or whatever the hell those "i don't have shit, i'm happy with nothing" people called it. He just felt suffocated by it's immense power, same as when he thinked about society. He was more of a middle person, hence he felt he was neither one of them, alien to those extremist people that could identify with either nature or man (and in the end, isn't man part of nature). He felt none and unbelonging, like he wasn't meant for this world or reality. Yet he cared, and that was a PROBLEM.