Number 531462

There are times when I feel like a filler, just another number in the system. I’m not alive or dead, I’m just kind of there. It feels like I have no purpose on this earth, like I was meant to just be another human added into this world to add to our population.

Then there are times when I feel special. I’d get a strange feeling that I was completely different than others and I was destined to do great things for the world. I’m not sure what I’d do, but I would help someone who needs it in my own way. But that kind of feeling would only last a short amount of time before I came crashing down to reality.

In school, they don’t give you a name to put into your computer; they give you a number. Just a six-digit code to punch into a device to let them know that you are present for the day on that device. They let you believe that you have a purpose and that you can actually do something to affect them. They lead you on and lie to your face, when in reality, your entire existence is just a number to them.

After a few years of using that same code, it may finally dawn on you that that’s how they identify you. Not by your name, but something else. Maybe after you graduate, they’ll recycle the number to someone else. Or maybe they’ll lock it up in a vault, alongside all the others before you.

It’s not something I like to think about often, but I can’t help the nagging feeling that I’m just a filler for the world, a number for the system, a statistic for surveys, or some other mundane thing.