Fred and the Theater of Daily Absurdity

[L'absent]

Fred sat on a park bench, watching the depressing spectacle of human life unfolding before his eyes with the same grace as an egg smashing onto concrete.
Here comes a guy in a suit, walking briskly, his phone glued to his ear like a post-evolutionary appendage. He's passionately discussing business strategies, KPIs, and "creating value." Fred wonders if this man has ever realized that his existence is just an endless loop of useless meetings designed to generate money he'll never have time to spend, while his body slowly rots in an ergonomic office chair.
A little further, a couple is arguing about who gets to choose the movie for the night. "We need to find something we both like," she says, as if watching a movie were some profound existential act. Fred wonders—why worry so much about picking the "right" thing when, in the end, everything is just another illusion to fill the time before decomposition?
Then there's an influencer recording a video, passionately preaching about how important it is to "believe in yourself and never give up." Fred smirks. It's astonishing how desperately humans cling to their own insignificance, like a fly convinced it can escape a glue trap with the sheer power of positive thinking.
And of course, the cyclist in his aerodynamic suit, pedaling as if time were currency and he needed to save every second. To go where, exactly? Toward a grave in better shape than the others?
Fred shakes his head and gets up, fully aware that everyone around him is an unknowing actor in a play that never had a script or an ending worth watching. The world keeps spinning, driven by blind inertia, while everyone pretends they have a role to play.

Fred walks away laughing—because he knows, in the end, there's no one watching the show.