What Would You Do If You Were the Only Person Alive?
Imagine waking up one morning to absolute silence—no honking cars, no chatter from neighbors, no buzzing phones. You step outside and realize the world is entirely yours. No rules, no schedules, no judgment. Just you and an empty planet. What would you do first? For me, the answer is simple: I’d head straight to my school canteen.
The Allure of Familiar Spaces
There’s something oddly comforting about revisiting places that once felt restrictive. School cafeterias, for example, are usually bustling with noise, lunch lines, and the occasional food fight. But in this new reality, I’d walk into my school’s canteen and claim it as my personal sanctuary. I’d kick off my shoes, sprawl across the tables (no one’s there to scold me for it), and nap under the flickering fluorescent lights. The absence of bells and lunch monitors would transform this space from a rigid routine into a peaceful retreat.
But why stop at sleeping? I’d raid the kitchen, experiment with recipes I’d never dared to try, and eat ice cream straight from the freezer. Without societal norms dictating “proper” behavior, the cafeteria becomes a playground of freedom.
Exploring the Uncharted World
After my cafeteria adventure, curiosity would take over. I’d grab a bike and pedal through empty streets, entering buildings I’d always wondered about. Museums, libraries, and mansions—all unlocked and waiting to be explored. I’d read rare books in silent libraries, try on clothes in abandoned boutiques, or drive a sports car just to feel the wind in my hair. The world would become a museum of human achievement, free for me to study and enjoy.
I’d also visit places that once intimidated me. Imagine walking into a high-security government facility or a celebrity’s mansion without consequences. The thrill of discovery would replace fear, turning every corner into an opportunity for awe.
The Joy of Unfiltered Creativity
With no deadlines or expectations, creativity could flourish. I’d turn classrooms into art studios, using chalkboards for murals and science labs for experimental projects. The school auditorium would host solo concerts—me singing off-key or attempting to play forgotten instruments. Who cares if it’s terrible? The freedom to create without judgment is liberating.
I’d also document my experiences. Maybe I’d write a diary on classroom whiteboards or film vlogs in empty movie theaters. These “time capsules” might never be found, but the act of creating them would give purpose to my days.
The Flip Side: Coping With Loneliness
Of course, solitude has its downsides. The initial excitement would fade, and the weight of isolation might creep in. To stay grounded, I’d establish routines. Mornings could be for exploring, afternoons for learning (hello, library!), and evenings for relaxation. I’d talk to myself, pets (if any survived), or even inanimate objects to fill the silence.
Oddly, the absence of people might deepen my connection to the environment. I’d learn to appreciate nature’s rhythms—the sound of rain, the growth of plants, the patterns of stars. Survival skills like gardening or cooking would become hobbies rather than chores.
Rediscovering Purpose
Eventually, I’d ask: What’s the point of all this? The answer might lie in self-discovery. With no one to perform for, I could redefine success. Maybe I’d study subjects I’d ignored in school, practice meditation in quiet spaces, or build something just for fun. The pressure to “achieve” would vanish, replaced by pure curiosity.
Sleeping in the cafeteria, riding roller coasters alone, or reading every book in the library—none of these actions would “matter” in the traditional sense. But they’d matter to me. In a world without audiences, every choice becomes an authentic expression of self.
Final Thoughts
Being the last person alive is equal parts fantasy and nightmare. It offers unlimited freedom but demands resilience against loneliness. For me, the school canteen symbolizes a fresh start—a place where childhood rules no longer apply, and adulthood pressures dissolve. Whether napping on cafeteria tables or stargazing from rooftops, the experience would teach me to find joy in simplicity and strength in solitude.
In the end, maybe that’s the lesson: When stripped of external validation, we’re forced to listen to our deepest desires. And sometimes, those desires are as simple as enjoying a quiet nap in a familiar place, with no one around to wake you up.
Please indicate: Thinking In Educating » What Would You Do If You Were the Only Person Alive