The last real man on earth.

Today I went to Jurong Point, which by the way, has expanded to twice its size.

The shops had bright, glitzy lights, decked with congratulatory bouquets in front, and people busying themselves with the merchandise sold. At the ground floor there was some performance with throngs of people crowded in front of the stage where a person dressed in a bear suit was singing along with some girls wearing short pants, some pop songs with lyrics slyly altered to incorporate Christmassy words like Christmas and Santa. Good old commercial propaganda.

I stood at the newly furbished third floor of the new wing, looking down at the masses of people, of all ages, flowing like water, rubbing shoulders, talking, smiling, carrying bags, pushing prams, holding hands. You know what I think? I think they're not real people. Not really. They're illusions. They don't exist. I think if I had the balls to walk up and touch any of them, they would shimmer like holograms and walk straight through me.

The escalators ferried a constant stream of humanoids. On my way up an escalator there was this guy coming down on the other one. He wore black rimmed glasses, was checking his wallet and looked kinda lost. Kinda human. A cute one at it. Maybe if he looked at my direction, I would catch his eye and we would share some kind of connection, and he would understand the whole conspiracy of us being the only real ones and the urgent need to save the earth from evil human wannabes, and possibly repopulate the earth, I wouldn't mind.

But he was oblivious of my presence and quickly merged into the crowd when he stepped off the escalator. I looked backwards longingly, and my heart broke a little when the last of his silhouette disappeared, and I knew that I had lost him forever.