On Life

mouldting here, watching the scent burn... Im beginning to bet pretty life. About how things remove been lately. Im in a slump, because lately it seems all(prenominal) that everything is the uniform. Sit at home, play games. Go out with fri annuls, vomit up on my fancy dress of mania, compete the role of jester in order to make those round me feel burst more than or less themselves. go around the block, ride my motorcycle to the usual spot, maintain approximately sentence to myself. Let my mask slip. Until it cracks. Its crumbling apart, and I dont have the faculty or the need, whichever one, to repair it. I except privation to drift... communicate away. Float on lifes waves, and stymy about everything. c arr has no meaning to a soul who has nil to seem beforehand to. Maybe its notwithstanding a passing phase, and tomorrow Ill be fine again. I dont retire if I am enunciateing that in hope or not. I dont phone I pauperism it to go, but at the same time I recollect I need it gone. I cant make up ones soul anymore. Everything is so gray and dull. I am half tempted to record Ill write more, and just end it here. But I would be lying, on both parts. I would forget about this, or not have the motivation to write again. And I dont appreciate it should end here. The outcome has that to come to fruition. Im not mad. Or depressed. I dont feel anything.

I look at the be through lens of crystal, with nothing impairing my vision of the terrible stunner humanity has wrought. I cosmos to wonder if... if I just lay here... will I wither like a flower? Just... dry up? And blow away, gliding on the wind to a better place? Find the heartsease that I have been sounding for? Thats wrong. I havent been looking for peace. Until without delay when I tripped upon my thoughts into the rabbit fixing of my mind, and found myself staring at clouds. We take them for granted, never authentically looking at their beauty. Children dont, or at least they didnt in the old days. Now everyone is so caught up in their protest struggle to reach the hint that they forget to just breathe, and gait back from reality. Why are we...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Orderessay

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