Everything has a purpose. Even the selfless acts that we do. They have it too. Purpose. That is what defines the universe. Selfishness. The epicenter of this purposefulness. A person driven by purpose is selfish. Only a selfish person can be driven by purpose. The universe is essentially selfish. A baby is born. The parents are happy. Not out of selflessness. But out of selfishness. Something they made came into this world. Their lineage continues. A person dies. There are people. Sad people. Weeping. Sobbing. Even wailing. Selfish. They all are. They cry. Not for the dead. But for themselves. They know they have lost something. A lover cries. They have lost something to love. Not for the lover. But for their own loss. People get killed. A random act of terror. Nothing is random. Still. People cry. Their tears. Their own. Loss of something. That is what makes them cry. Humanity. It is selfishness disguised. Then again. I may be wrong. I have a way. Of twisting the words. So. This time too. I may have twisted them. Either way. We are selfish. It defines us.