By Theodora Filis
How swiftly time marches on. One moment, it’s September, and you’re consumed with anxieties over school supplies, hairdos gone awry, and the impossible quest to craft an outfit that screams, “I woke up like this,” when the mirror insists otherwise. Suddenly, it’s Christmas—consumerism’s grand parade—where you dash from store to store, frantically buying gifts for people you rarely see, wrapping them in paper doomed to a five-second demise, and wondering if last year’s lavender candle can make a repeat appearance. And just as quickly, it’s New Year’s Eve—a night of revelry and ambitious resolutions, those sparkling promises that fade almost as fast as the confetti drifting to the floor.
And so life continues, ticking away with the subtlety of a clock’s second hand—constantly moving, rarely acknowledged. Amid this swift passage, why not pause to ponder the cosmic jest: Why were we born? Was it to endure the dread of awkward school photos, face the annual tinsel trauma, or fail to keep a gym commitment beyond January 3rd? Perhaps we exist for loftier goals, like collecting expired coupons or mastering the delicate art of awkward weather small talk.
As we muster the courage to seek life’s grand purpose, the calendar flips again, sweeping us into the pageantry of obligations. We make plans—then cancel them. We set goals—then forget them. We join book clubs but only skim the blurbs. We buy planners that never see past March. We promise to meditate, then binge reality TV instead. Is happiness just learning to stumble through this endless parade? Or are profound insights hiding between “Best Wishes!” cards and inspirational coffee mugs?
Life, it seems, is a magnificent satire—the most exquisite cosmic joke. We fret, anticipate, dread, and despair, yet none of it halts the relentless ticking of the clock. We are all unwitting actors in this farce, clinging to daily routines as if they hold the answers to ancient questions: Why were we born? What’s next for us?
What’s the answer? Perhaps there isn’t one. Or maybe it’s refreshingly simple: keep moving, keep laughing, and remember—the punchline is just around the corner, waiting for you with a knowing wink and a resigned sigh. Life is the grandest satire—so savor the show.
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Theodora Filis writes with one eye on the cosmic joke and the other on everyday absurdities. Her work spans humor, memoir, and fiction, and has appeared in literary journals and anthologies around the world.